


The Last Light of Dawn

by Etched_in_Fire



Series: The Dragon and the Wolf [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Breathplay, Choking, Dark Knight Questline (Final Fantasy XIV) Spoilers, Dark Knight Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit for Sexual Content Only, F/M, Finding hope in a dark place, Flashbacks, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loss of Virginity, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Patch 5.4: Futures Rewritten Spoilers, Politics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Posthumous Character Appearances, Rebellion, Slow Burn, This is a bad timeline, Torture, Trauma, dark themes, probably a very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 72,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etched_in_Fire/pseuds/Etched_in_Fire
Summary: "The Warrior of Light has fallen" were the words that heralded a year of hell for Eorzea as the Garleans invaded, annexing the city-states and subjugating its citizens.  The Scions of the Seventh Dawn are no more.  Now hope only exists in a rebellious faction led by Tataru Taru and her two commanders-- Gaius Baelsar and Estinien Wyrmblood.  With the odds heavily stacked against them, Gaius determines that the Garleans are hiding something in the indomitable Castrum Nocte and decides to infiltrate it.  What he discovers changes the course of their hopeless war.
Relationships: Gaius van Baelsar/Warrior of Light
Series: The Dragon and the Wolf [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213895
Comments: 29
Kudos: 76





	1. Walking Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the most self-indulgent fic I've ever written.
> 
> Because of the nature of FFXIV's story being so ongoing, I'm going to go ahead and say this happens post-5.4 but pre-5.5. I'm also virtually ignoring Sorrow of Werlyt and saying that it's been resolved in a way that we won't really go into that involves all of Gaius's kids being dead. Who knows what SE is gonna do with that plot so I'm just gonna put it on a shelf and leave it there for the purposes of this story.
> 
> The Major Character Death warning is for stuff that happened during the invasion, not necessarily during the fic. It IS a darker themed fic so some characters may not have survived up to this point.
> 
> I'm still roadmapping this story so keep in mind some of the tags (and rating) could change. I'll post updates at the top of each chapter.
> 
> Also, I'm still learning all the lore bits about FFXIV (despite having played it for so long) so if I mess something up... I'm sorry, there's a LOT of lore LOL

If this was what death looked like, she was a bit disappointed. When she opened her eyes, there was nothing around her but a white void. All sound was muted except her haggard, tired footsteps. Her green eyes darted about, breath rapid. The Raen’s back hunched slightly as she struggled to walk, grabbing at her right arm—still concealed in an ebony gauntlet. It ached terribly, cut nearly to the bone but there was no bleeding in this place between life and death. There was pain, though. Pain enough to know that she was still somehow alive, even if that would soon change. 

She lost her balance, catching herself on a kneecap painfully. 

People had always told her that when you died, your life flashed before your eyes just before you went. Now that she thought about it, she wondered how they would know something like that. Not that they even seemed to be correct. There was nothing around here that remotely resembled her life. Just an endless pool of light.

If life was going to torment her one last time, she silently dared it to. She told it show her the Ruby Sea, where she had been born. She told it to show her the face of her parents—the ones who had watched stoically by as the villagers had cast her out. Her sister—a twin but not identical, with those stern violet eyes and downward turn of her mouth. The shrine she used to work at, filled with riches beyond belief. Her mentor’s face in meditation, the picture of repose and serenity. How she could scarcely stand her vigils, legs always twitching to explore. Her curiosity leading her to the lower levels of the temple. The oni that had awaited her there. How it shrieked when its wrath was loosed upon the temple, the fine silks stained sanguine. The feeling of her heart plummeting into the soles of her feet when they had banished her for her ignorance.

And then Eorzea. All of those adventures. Stumbling into the Scions time and time again until they finally extended an invite into their organization. Dodging Titan’s landslides. Operation Archon. The Ultima Weapon. The day they had poisoned Nanamo. The snows of Ishgard. Ysayle and Estinien bickering the whole way to the Churning Mists. Azys Lla cutting that horrifying view in the sky. Ending Nidhogg and feeling that anger fall away. Watching Rhalgr’s Reach burn. Eagerly returning to the Ruby Sea—being too scared to even think about checking in on the family. The sound of the morning chants in the Azim Steppe. Doma Castle flooding. Ala Mhigo becoming free at last. Wanting to deck Asahi in the face. Everyone falling asleep. Norvrandt. Ardbert. G’raha. Hades. That old familiar city at the bottom of the ocean.

And then she had come back. Come back to finish to job. There had still been things to do on the Source. Foes to beat. People to save. She had come back so confident and yet…  
  
…  
  
Didn’t matter anymore.  
  
It was over now. Unceremonious. Unfulfilling. A haze of blood and steel. When she tried to form the memory into images, it bit back at her. She recoiled, fingers curling tightly. Would that those hands could do anything to stop what had happened. But no. There were no do-overs.  
  
“Stupid,” she spat into the abyss, fighting back a searing layer of tears. “So stupid.”  
  
The abyss did not deign to answer back.  
  
But someone else did.  
  
“Kaida.”  
  
A familiar voice, one that made this quiet hell seem a bit more bearable.  
  
“It’s you,” she whispered. If that was true, then she was on her way out of this mortal coil. Funny. All of the battles and the one that had mattered the most would be the one to do her in. Was this what poets called a ‘tragedy’? All of those things she had done and for what? For fucking _what?_   
  
The gash in her arm burned, pained further by the weight of the metal.   
  
“Ardbert,” she managed bitterly. “F-fancy seeing you here…”  
  
One last laugh before it was all over except this time, no one was laughing.  
  
The Raen looked back at him, her soft green hair a tangled mess thrown over one of her ebony pauldrons. Kaida told herself not to let the tears fall. Not even in front of ghosts. But it was hard. Too hard. A few rebellious tears splashed the ground and Kaida tried to pretend like they did not exist. 

He did not say anything when their eyes met. What was there left to say at this point? She had lost. They were on the cusp of death together. She supposed that meant it would a bit less lonely this way. Small comforts, Kaida told herself. Small, brief comforts.   
  
Ardbert approached, his own surprise and anguish written across his face. When he was close enough to touch, he knelt down next to her. She dragged her gaze away, back to the ground where her knee clipped into the white nothingness. Looking at him felt like an admission of her own shortcomings. It felt like it solidified her guilt. They were both dying—and it was her fault.  
  
“Kaida—” he began.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she said sharply. “I guess I was not enough this time.”

“Come now. You have no need to apologize to _me_ of all people. I think I have had my fair share of failings,” Ardbert replied. She could hear that half-smile in his voice, the one filled with that deep melancholy. It dug into her heart like nails.   
  
The pain in her arm seared like a wildfire, consuming her senses for a moment. She sucked in a breath, grabbing at her arm. Her fingers dug under the plates of armor, trying to soothe what was aching but to no avail. Ardbert grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. It was still too hard to look at him.  
  
“Did it feel like this when you saw the Flood coming?” she wondered aloud, sniffling. “It feels awful.”

He hesitated.  
  
“When the Flood came, I felt a despair I did not think possible. But never forget what happened after. Even in the most hopeless of circumstances, you found a way to save that world.”

“Too bad I couldn’t manage to save this one too.”  
  
“The fight is not yet done. The others can see the rest to the end.”

“Can they?” the Raen asked ruefully, her emerald eyes gradually meeting his.

He was taken aback by that question. She could see he had no answer for that. There was a bitter satisfaction in knowing she was right. This was the end of the line. For her. For him. For everyone else out there. Once she had fallen, the die had been cast and the future had been written. There was nothing left to do now but wither away in these last few moments in that abyss.

They sat like that for a few long, quiet moments with the silence only disturbed by the Raen’s soft sniffles. As time ticked by, she waited for the end. For the nothingness to swallow them both. But it never came. Nothing stirred around them. And as they waited together, the Raen’s heart began to stir with newfound fear.  
  
“Do you think we’re dead already?” Kaida asked, tears blurring her vision. “I figured it would be a bit different than this.”  
  
“I cannot say I would know,” Ardbert said, scratching his neck. “But one thing is certain—if there is a reason for all of this, it will present itself.”  
  
Fair enough, she supposed. She sniffled again, settling into a sitting position. “I guess all that’s left is to wait. You’ll… you’ll be here the whole time, right?”

His expression softened as he sat down next to her. “There is nowhere else I would rather be. Not that it seems I have much of a choice on the matter.”   
  
Ardbert paused, bringing his knees up and draping an arm across them. Kaida could feel him looking her over in a fretful way—the kind of way where she could feel he was trying desperately to think of something to say. Something that would somehow make this all better. But there was nothing he could do. He sighed.  
  
“If this is to be the end,” began the warrior thoughtfully. “Mayhaps we should count our blessings that we get to see it together.”

“Tiny comforts,” Kaida said ruefully. “And if this is what death is?”  
  
“Then I suppose we can fill the silence with conversation,” Ardbert replied.  
  
“I may not be the best company for that,” the Raen said, wiping her nose with the back of her wrist. “In case you haven’t noticed, I have been having a bit of a rough day.”  
  
“All the more reason to talk, I suppose,” Ardbert said warmly.  
  
She looked up at him, vision sparkling with tears. But not enough to drown out his smile. Something about his assuredness made the bleak world around them feel a little less cold. But only a little. Kaida’s next breath was a shiver-filled exhale, tiny bits of weight seeping from her shoulders. If death was an endless limbo, she supposed she had all of forever to feel bad about what happened. An objectively hellish existence—but, well, what could she do at this point? 

Tears still wetting her cheeks, she sniffled back a glob of snot. Her quivering lip turned upward into a tiny, bitter smile.

“You always were the more logical of us.” 


	2. Reprisal

It was a dark and gloomy night over Castrum Nocte, the starlight banished by the constant blaring of sterile, artificial lights. White ones circulated around the fortress’s perimeter, crimson ones lined the dark metal walls like a thousand angry eyes, looking for trouble on the midnight horizon. Lurking overhead was a cluster of Garlean-made airships. Some were smaller, manned by meager crews. Others were just shy of dreadnought status, looming like sharks around a sinking, bloodied ship. Their presence matched with the lack of alarums blaring was telling-- _too_ telling. He could see no reason why the ships would be stationed there, burning away fuel, when they clearly had no destination in mind. It’s almost as though they were there on purpose, watchful sentinels meant to keep something out.

Or, perhaps, to keep something _in_.

It was the latter theory that had peaked his interest and stoked the faint flame of hope. Hope—that was a word no one in their meager band (the Rebellion) was used to anymore. A year had passed since the word had passed anyone’s lips—a year of living by a day-to-day basis, where all that mattered was survival. It was a desperate existence, dodging Garlean attention and foraging in the Coerthan wildlands, where winter’s harshness never left and the fauna were just as likely to kill you so much as look at you. 

Reminiscing about going back to the old days was something he had trained himself not to do. The path to the present was littered with corpses and his hands were too red with blood to ever be clean but for once, he entertained the thought of ending this hell. He entertained the thought of hope resting in Castrum Nocte and he let that fantasy get to his head. The past was ash. The future was uncertain but if his guess was correct, maybe it was not as bleak as they had all believed.

His theorizing led to an obsession that trailed over the course of a week. Each day he would wander the snowy hills, keeping a healthy margin from the castrum. He drew in just close enough to parse what was happening at least at the castrum’s hefty gate. And then he would return back to their base, stewing over what he had seen and trying to fathom what they could be hiding inside.

The fourth day came and as he mused over what could be inside, a question arose. What was important enough to keep so closely guarded? Magitek weaponry? He didn’t think they would be developing anything of the sort this far from the capital. And there was only one other thing it could be—high profile prisoners. Each castrum had a prison sector, of course. Despite Nocte being relatively new, its structure was still similar to the all the others that had dotted Eorzea for years. He had no doubt that old Eorzean Alliance soldiers were being held there… but that gave the Empire little reason to guard the skies so well. A high profile prisoner made the most amount of sense. And with this many guards, it had to be someone they were deathly afraid of escaping.

He could only think of one person that could be.

With that thought in mind, he resolved himself to find out what they were keeping there, though he knew such a bold move was far too risky for the Rebellion at this point. Most of their veterans had died in the invasion. They were left with hopefuls and wet-behind-the-ears scouts… and even beyond that, if such a mission were to go south, he did not have it in himself to watch any more of their number die. Especially not to sate his curiosity.  
  
He formed plans to break into the castrum shortly after, figuring a stealth operation would best be done solo. Perhaps even without the others knowing what he intended. Tataru ran a tight ship and fretted constantly over all of them—even if he swore she only cared because they were the only chance she had at determining if any of the Scions had lived. But of course each venture took time away from his other duties—namely supervising and training the pitiful cluster of soldiers they called their “army”. And that time away drew attention fairly quickly.

It was Estinien that pulled him aside—both to his surprise and not to his surprise. The former Azure Dragoon was perhaps the keenest of their number and he had a habit of doing whatever Tataru wanted. And he presumed that meant stopping any reckless missions from happening. 

They stepped into an empty corridor, the elezen’s sullen expression far more severe than normal. As he spoke, tiny patches of his skin quivered near his shadowed eyes, betraying his own exhaustion. 

“Your excursions have not gone unnoticed,” Estinien said. “I had to reassure the others you had not opted to defect back to your homeland.”

That comment stung but only because it had been a year since they had ended up in this mess. A year of fighting for survival and they _really_ thought he was going to betray them _now_ of all times? 

“I understand you have been surveying Castrum Nocte,” Estinien continued. “I assume these moonlit expeditions are something you believe will benefit the Rebellion?”

“I believe they might.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“Plainly speaking, I believe they have someone in particular being held there.”

“Who?”

“ _Her_.”

“You shall have to be more specific. You may have forgotten, but our list of missing soldiers is thrice as long as our list of—” Estinien began sourly.

“Lady Asagiri.”

Estinien fell silent for a few moments.

“Gaius. A full year has passed,” the elezen had said. “If she survived only to be caught, the Bloody Emperor would have disposed of her by now. You know how he enjoys his sport.”

He was probably right, Gaius knew. But when he thought of Castrum Nocte and all of its air guard and its searchlights, his knowledge of Garlean tactics told him otherwise. 

“Then it is perhaps another of the missing. Regardless, we would be remiss to let the Castrum sit undisturbed,” Gaius had said in reply. “If it is not her, then it is surely something worth plucking from Zenos’s hands.”

Estinien’s sigh was heavy as the Coerthan winter snows.

“Such a conjecture would inspire hope that I dare not stoke among those who remain,” his silver-haired ally had told him before his departure. “I fear another loss would crush what little remains of morale.”

“That even _you_ care so much for morale...” Gaius had said, voice trailing off as he side-eyed the elezen.

“Hmph. I only speak of what is true,” his ally’s snappish retort ran over him like frigid water. “If you do this, it may be best to shroud your actions in secrecy. I do not care to console any more weeping souls.”

“ ‘Weeping souls’?” Gaius inquired. “From how it sounds, half of them expect me to be a turncoat.”

“This lifestyle has made them skittish—dare you blame them?” Estinien challenged. “And yet for what it is worth, I must add they are quite impressed with how you have been handling our troops. It seems Tataru was correct in placing them in the hands of the Black Wolf.”

He had nothing to say to that. Estinien’s stern expression softened somewhat and he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“There is no one else as capable of a military strategist as you within our ranks. You are a symbol of hope to some of them… if you were to be lost, then they would no doubt despair.

“I am no symbol of hope. My abilities are,” Gaius corrected him. “Very well. If you are so concerned, you could come with me.”

“ _Nostalgic_ , but I must pass,” Estinien’s answer came with bitterness and a moody folding of his arms over his chest. “Castrum Nocte is formidable and we could not stand to lose the both of us. Besides, one of us must remain behind to rescue the other.”

“A warming thought,” Gaius commented with as much emotion as one of the rocks Castrum Nocte was built upon. “Let us hope you will not have to console any more ‘weeping souls’, then. I fear that may not be your forte.”

“Hmph.”

That had been the last time they had spoken, a day before he had set out to infiltrate Castrum Nocte, which had been raised just in the shadow of where Ishgard’s mighty walls had once stood. Amid the snow and gray mountains, it was a dark beacon of the Empire’s might-- the Empire that had finally succeeded in doing what Gaius had tried to do decades ago. Once, he would have believed this future to be one worth fighting for. But in the wake of the Empire’s invasion, all he saw was an unrecoverable desolation, a road paved in corpses and cemented in blood. How he could have been so complacent in such a future, he would never understand, but the veil had been lifted.

Being of pureblooded Garlean nature, he knew that he could blend into the castrum’s ranks. While a lot of conscripts had been made over the last year, there were still purebloods on the frontlines. He had found one straying from the castrum’s safe walls and had dispatched the poor lout without raising much suspicion. He was some form of engineer so Gaius mentally prepared himself to don that mantle when he arrived within the fortress’s walls. Whoever he had been, he had seemingly been using a device to measure the aether in the local area. He had some form of compass and a tripod and screen combination that did… something important, surely. If he was honest, the Black Wolf had never really had a talent for this sector of science. He hoped that shortcoming would not hamper the mission in any way.

He shed his outer layer of clothes and stored them in a stony nook not far from the castrum. Gaius didn’t hesitate except when bidding a temporary farewell to Heirsbane, feeling naked when it departed his hand. He kept two of his knives, sliding them into two thin sheaths he kept strapped to his forearms. Thankfully they had done away with the old red and black engineer outfits, properly fitting each soldier with black steel armor bulky enough to hide his weapons. 

When he slid the helmet on over his face, it felt like a strange combination of nostalgia and treason. He discarded those feelings quickly, instead turning his attention to the next step. If this engineer had been out gathering intel, it would be easy to get back through the castrum gates without raising too much suspicion. After that, he was unsure if his calm demeanor and intimate knowledge of Garlean military protocols could carry him to success. 

There was only one way to find out.

Castrum Nocte loomed like an iron giant at the edge of the snowy Coerthan forests. Just past where the Steps of Faith had once been were its gates—indomitable and foreboding. As he approached them, a fearful thrill shot through his veins. His silver eyes crawled up the castrum’s gate, jaw clenched under his mask. 

“Ah, back already,” one of the gatekeepers said to him. They were all purebloods, Gaius noticed. He supposed that should not have been surprising—there was little doubt in his mind that they mistrusted the Eorzeans, even the conscripted ones. “I take it you got the readings?”

“Yes,” said Gaius curtly.

“Good. Promising conditions, I trust?” the guard remarked. “Or should we all avoid the legatus today?”

Gaius stared at him from beyond his helm, trying to decipher what that even _meant_.

“Yes. Promising,” Gaius replied and the gatekeep snorted.

“Good. He’s awful when his temper flares.”

The gate opened not long after, sparing him more idle chat with the gatekeep. He kept his gaze focused ahead, bracing himself. This was the point of no return. Once the gates had shut behind him, he was behind enemy lines and alone. As he stepped inside, he dissected his tumultuous feelings, finding himself less afraid of being caught and more afraid of finding nothing of import. Caught meant an execution—one that had likely been stayed for far too long at this point. Finding nothing meant keeping this dreary status quo, and he was not sure the rebellion could handle that for much longer.  
  
A roar of machinery told him the gates were closing behind him. Gaius carried on towards the central building. There was surety in his step; each pace slightly more disorienting than the last. Strange, how it felt like no time passed at all when he looked at those dark castrum walls. But he was a trespasser now. These walls were not his but it all seemed so familiar. 

The yard was abuzz with activity—more so than he had anticipated. A few magitek walkers were being tuned by some engineers sporting similar attire to him. He passed a platoon of conscripts training. Their commanding officer barked orders at them and they moved like amateurs. They were mostly elezen, he noticed; their pointed ears protruded from their helms awkwardly, as though they were not made for such armor. He did not doubt they were Ishgardian—likely civilians that had submitted to Garlemald when their city had burned. One of the men had locks of silver-white hair and he thought of Estinien.  
  
His pace hastened until he was at the front door of the castrum’s central building. Most imperial castrums were constructed similarly—it made things easier when troops were reassigned to other locations. As he stepped in, another bitter nostalgic wave hit him but he suppressed it as best as he could.

The central hall fed directly into the elevator shaft which functioned as the spine of the castrum. There were quite a few imperials populating the hallway, some pushing carts that seemed to be destined for the hanger while others were idly patrolling. A few glanced his way but he said nothing as he made his way down the corridor. Equipment still tucked under his arm, he approached the elevator, quickly tapping the button. 

Fortunately, his wait was not long and soon enough, he was stepping into the elevator. The science wing of the castrum was likely where he ought to have deposited the equipment he was toting about. However, his priorities did not take him to that sector—not yet, at least. A cursory glance over the elevator buttons and he saw that a few of the underground levels were flagged as off-limits, requiring a special passcode. His eyes narrowed at this. What was so important that they were keeping the entire floor locked down? 

If Castrum Nocte was built like all the others, the facility management division would be on the third floor so he opted to push that button. A glance over their computers could tell him everything he needed to know about what the Garleans were up to and what he may find below. Getting to a computer without being noticed, however, was where the challenge lay. 

The brief ride up the elevator did not afford him enough time to craft out a plan. By the time the doors opened, Gaius Baelsar knew that he had to play his cards carefully—perhaps here most of all. A single suspicious act and a technician could activate the alarums in the blink of an eye. But perhaps the one thing the ex-legatus knew was that to blend in, one simply had to act as though they were supposed to be there.

With that mentality equipped, he strolled out of the elevator and into the next hallway. A cluttered storage room was where he ended up depositing the equipment. He hastily dropped it behind some crates, praying no one would find it. Once that was done, he proceeded to the communications room, which was down the hall and through a large set of doors announcing the room’s purpose.

As soon as he walked through the door, all eyes turned on him. For a second, he was fearful that somehow they recognized him. But as soon as one of the communications officers approached him, that fear was quickly assuaged.

“Can I help you?” the officer asked in a voice that did _not_ sound particularly kind or patient.

“Yes,” Gaius lied, spilling forth the first thing that came to mind as an excuse. “I am here on orders of Lady nan Blossius. I have data to be sent to the capital.”

“I received no missive that someone from Science and Engineering would be in my sector,” the officer began. Gaius’s mouth creased into a disbelieving scowl. The pettiness of some folk…

“No missive was sent. Her Excellency said that the readings from today need to be sent to the capital for archiving. Urgently, might I add,” Gaius replied.

The officer’s sigh whisked through his mask.

“Hand it over then,”

“The information is confidential,” Gaius countered hastily.

“‘ _Confidential_?’ the officer spat. “Fine, fine. Take the one in the corner over there. We have enough on our hands with the legatus arriving earlier than expected. Though I scarcely understand why we are even out in this frozen hellhole if we are not meant to even do our job.”

The legatus was here? A very troubling coincidence, Gaius mused. He made his way to the computer in question, praying that the officer did not follow him over. Thankfully, the hostile officer seemed more content to go back to barking orders at his subordinates. As his grating voice cut through the air, Gaius set to work on the computer. He tossed a quick look over his shoulder just for safety, inputting the commands to send out a missive to the capital quickly. Once that command was entered, he swiped over to view a map of the castrum’s interior.

From a hasty gander, he could tell the castrum’s floors went deeper into the earth than he had originally anticipated. He made a mental note of that and quickly tapped over to the information regarding the prison sector. Only there was one glaring problem.

There _was_ no prison sector.

Beneath his helm, Gaius’ brow furrowed. That was… certainly an odd choice in design. It was clear this castrum had been made for a particular use. But what was that? Instinctively, he glanced back at the subterranean levels, counting three of them. He clicked to see if the system would give him any intel. A red error code flashed onto the screen, telling him that he was not authorized to see that information. He scowled. A pity but there were other ways to see what they were hiding, surely.

He went through the motions of finishing up his task then made his way back towards the door. All the while, he felt eyes on him, prying with curiosity. Before he slipped out of the room, he heard the officer give a scoff. Heart racing in his ears, he made his way back towards the elevator, breathing slowly out his relief that they had not caught on to him yet. He reached for the elevator button.

“Gaius!”  
  
His blood turned to ice.


	3. Living Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaius Baelsar encounters the Asset and realizes things are more dire than he initially thought.

“Gaius!”

Down the hall, he heard footsteps. Mechanically, his head swung to the left towards the noise, his fear trapping his next breath in the back of his throat. An engineer was racing towards him, waving frantically. 

“ _Caius!_ ”

Gaius blinked. Had he… misheard the first two times? He watched, baffled, as the engineer approached him. The stranger clapped him on the back in a friendly, casual manner and Gaius felt the breath in his lungs hiss between his dry lips. It happened so suddenly that he flinched, fighting hard to stay his hand and not wring the man’s neck.   
  
“There you are. We thought we were going to have to start without you. The legatus arrived an hour ago and wants to proceed with the test run. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yes,” Gaius replied awkwardly. 

“I was a little surprised he wanted to proceed so soon after arriving but I suppose the Emperor has him on a short leash after he let the Black Wolf escape,” the other engineer said enthusiastically. 

“Ah yes. That was…” Gaius began, still reeling from earlier. “… Unfortunate.” 

“Yes, yes, but we will root out the Rebellion soon enough. Maybe we’ll even get to go back home,” the other engineer beamed. “Anywho, the um… Asset will need to be fetched from Sublevel 3. Protocol states that two must go to get it. Would you mind coming with me? I… know it’s unlikely anything bad will happen. But I don’t want another of Blossius’s tongue-lashings.”

The Asset. Well that certainly sounded important and most certainly code for something. Something nefarious, he wagered silently. Sublevel 3 additionally sounded like an underground floor. My, my, how serendipitous. 

“Of course,” Gaius answered calmly. 

“Excellent!” the other engineer replied and off they went to the nearest elevator.

The alarum for the elevator chimed to herald its arrival fairly quickly and the two stepped inside. The lowest floor was selected, the other engineer eagerly entering the passcode for the off-limits floors, and they begin to descend gradually-- painfully so. Gaius maintained his passive role, watching his “friend” with utmost care. 

“The cart’s already waiting for us,” the Garlean engineer told him. “I don’t mind pushing it if you want to get the door.”

“Sure,” Gaius replied stiffly and the engineer leaned in for a moment.

“You seem pretty quiet today. Did things not go well last night?” the engineer asked.

Gaius uncomfortably shifted his weight, trying to dissect the context enough to determine the most appropriate response. He quickly realized he had nothing to go off of so, he cautiously said what came to mind.

“Ah. No. They did not.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Well, I’m sure the next date will be fine.”

Beneath his helm, the legatus felt his cheeks flush with both surprise and nerves. 

“I can only hope,” he responded in a neutral tone and was silently thankful when the elevator stopped moving.

A single chime indicated they had reached their destination. When the doors opened, Gaius was unsure of what to expect but braced himself for anything. Would it be another slew of Allagan-inspired weapons that they would need to contend with? His stomach churned with memories of before the invasion, when the Empire had been sending their weapons one-by-one into the fray. Just as quickly as those thoughts surfaced, he ushered them away before the nausea could hit. 

Sublevel 3 of Castum Nocte was dark, save for a series of neon blue lights that lined the hallway. They illuminated just enough for him to realize that his engineer friend had brought him to a massive corridor. There was nothing of interest on the walls, so he followed his friend slowly. A crispness filled the air-- they were keeping this lower level cold for some reason. That realization made his spine crawl and he firmly locked his jaw to stifle the sound of him swallowing back a mixture of saliva and fear.

Down the corridor, they both walked—one set of footsteps markedly more confident than the other. The other engineer ignorantly trundled along, a rhythmic beat to his gait as he led Gaius purposefully down the long hallway until the end eventually came in the shape of a secure door. He waved his cardkey through a magitek verification device and both the unwitting engineer and the infiltrator soon found themselves in a large, rectangular room.   
  
At the far side of the room was a machine embedded into the wall. Diagnostics were being run on a series of monitors nearby. Gaius tossed a cautionary glance towards it, expecting to see magitek jargon written down but instead finding something that looked suspiciously like data being tracked on something _living._ His pale eyes cut back to the machine, noting the tangle of wires connecting it to the computers running the data. The machine was comprised of two large engines resting within pillars sitting on either sides of a central cylinder—all colored black with the faintest sheen of blue in the metal.   
  
Gaius drew closer, trepidation rising in his chest as the engineer walked casually up towards the device’s control panel. As the engineer began to work on the various buttons, Gaius stared up at the cylinder, hearing the softest hum from the engines coupled with the unmistakable gurgle of liquid being churned and moved. Just as he had processed enough of the device to start to even form questions, the metal casing surrounding the cylinder lowered, exposing a brimming blue-green light. Involuntarily, his breathing halted, interrupted by shock as he realized what he was staring at.   
  
Submerged in a sickly, pale teal liquid and hooked up to what seemed like a million wires, cables, and tubes, was the naked body of a Raen woman. Her eyes were closed, her arms loosely hanging by her sides as she drifted within the tube. Her fin-like horns were slightly chipped at the edges. A wild mess of ashen brown hair trailed behind her, flowing languidly in the ooze. The hair was longer than he remembered it being but one look at her face suddenly put a vice on his emotions.  
  
He was right; they had been keeping her here. But he was not sure if he wanted to be right if it meant this. She was thin, the lower half of her face concealed by a mask that was feeding her oxygen. Her ribs jutted out from malnourishment—but of course they had kept her this way, he realized numbly. Asleep and so weak that even a novice guardsman could subdue her if she were to awaken. A most intentional orchestration.  
  
The places where wires were embedded into her arms made his own arms tingle. But the closer he inspected them, the more he realized bits of them had crystallized. Her sallow, sickly skin was flecked by shimmering, blue shards where she had been made to bleed, as if that supposed Eorzean Mothercrystal had tried her best to intervene with the injustice happening here. He caught sight of a few scars lining her body that didn’t have cables attached—scars that were made with precise hands, carved in symmetry and with purpose. He didn’t want to know what those purposes entailed.  
  
“She’s always smaller than I remember. And to think, she caused the Emperor so much grief,” the engineer remarked as the tube began to drain into a vent at the bottom of the cylinder. “But she’s not going anywhere now. I don’t even think they’ve woken her up in ten months.”  
  
Ten months. The thought chilled him as the tube emptied itself, leaving her to be suspended by wires. The other engineer walked over to the other side of the room, pushing a cart over. Its bed looked uncannily like a coffin. As the device began to release the cables, he turned to look at her again, though he could scarcely stomach the sight of her abused, frail body. Much as the other engineer said, even with her body being liberated of the device, she did not so much as even stir.   
  
“Grab her and put her on,” the engineer said as he rolled the cart closer.  
  
Gaius knew that his time for secrecy was coming to an end. As he began to think of escape routes, the Raen was lowered and he reached out to accept her. He expected more of a weight to fall into his arms but when the device had at last withdrawn fully from her, he found himself stunned at how little she weighed at all.  
 _  
What did they do to you?_  
  
He asked her the question silently, fearing the answer. It was… hard to think back on how they had met all of those years ago. The fiery glint in her emerald irises. The cocky smirk about her lips. The way she had thrown herself into the fight with a haughty, confident laugh. When he looked at her now, he mused that it felt more like he was holding a corpse than that spirited warrior from before.  
  
“Are you… going to put her down?” the engineer asked uncomfortably.  
  
“Ah,” Gaius replied and lowered her onto the cart.  
  
It felt like a crime, parading her about like this—naked, exposed, comatose. Deprived of dignity. He gently left her there, rage flaring in his chest.  
  
“You know, I don’t really care for the horns but the rest of her is… _well_ … ,” the engineer remarked with a husky laugh in his voice. “… Pity she’s little more than a skeleton at this point. I doubt she knows she’s still alive. Probably for the best that way, though.”  
  
Gaius’s head swiveled in the engineer’s direction. Little thought passed through his mind as he approached his “comrade”, emotions taut and frayed. His palm covered the engineer’s helmet, putting his entire body weight behind the gesture. The engineer’s back slammed into the wall, his head next. A quick punch to his gut and the man doubled over.  
  
“Caius!?” he yelped, throwing his hands over his head.  
  
It was not enough. One hit to the jaw was enough to loosen his helmet. Gaius’s fingers threaded into some of the niches atop of it, throwing it off of the Garlean’s head. The engineer was a sniveling type, quivering moments before the final hit came—a quick jab straight into his nose. It was enough to render him unconscious. He slumped onto the ground and the Black Wolf took a spare moment to drag him from clear sight of the door—just in case any prying eyes came wandering down this direction. When that was done, Gaius turned to look back at the unresponsive Raen with his heart drumming loudly in his eardrums.  
  
No going back now, he supposed, musing at how they would make it out of the Castrum without alerting every single Garlean soldier on site. Once they had caught wind of his actions, he knew they would do everything in their power to stop him from taking her. After all, Zenos has spent so many years trying to get his hands on his quarry. He might have had her locked away for experimentation purposes but Gaius knew the Emperor would not suffer a defeat. Not when it meant losing the Warrior of Light.  
  
A series of lab coats hung near the door. Gaius had missed them while entering but as soon as they caught his eye, he made his way towards them. He pulled one off of the hanger, draping it over the Raen and tucking it in around her. It still felt wrong but somehow _less_ wrong than leaving her exposed.  
  
He did not know how long the other engineer would be out so he knew he had to be quick. Maintaining a sense of normalcy was going to be key to getting out of the Castrum alive, so Gaius grabbed the handle to the cart and began swiftly down the hall. No one else had been in the lowest floor as far as he was aware, so he comfortably ran while pushing the cart down the hall towards the elevator. The Raen’s body swayed as he pulled the cart into the elevator and he steadied her shoulder with a hand. Her torso was still dripping with the liquid from before. Silently, he feared she was dead but the shallow rise and fall of her chest told him otherwise. Despite being covered, he felt inappropriate for staring and averted his gaze. The elevator doors soon closed and as they did, he began considering his next few steps.  
  
Carting her around was likely to raise suspicion. Gaius doubted that the average soldier was supposed to have access to her, much less _see_ her body on the premises. His attention turned back to the cart and he realized there were a few buttons on the handle. He pressed one and the cart had a few lights illuminate on either sides—not particularly helpful. The next button pulled an opaque dome over the cart’s bed and Gaius told himself that it would suffice for now. He hit the button to the ground floor and the elevator began upwards.  
  
The ride was short enough to not grant him enough time to formulate a plan but long enough for him to feel the weight of the situation crush down upon him. The Warrior of Light had been in an induced coma for at least ten months. Her body was sickly thin and marred with scars. They could not know if the science division had done anything to her internal organs. Gaius wasn’t even sure how to wake her… or if that was possible at this point. She was a ragdoll in his possession and it would take a damn miracle to get her back to the others. But _if_ he was able to, it would turn the tides of this war. That was, of course, assuming she still had whatever blessing that her Eorzean god had given her. The Black Wolf silently acknowledged that this was a gamble where the odds were against him. But the odds had been against him before and yet he still lived.  
  
When the doors opened, Gaius began to push the cart out, maintaining his silence in an attempt to look like the docile, obedient worker. He steered the cart towards the front doors, thinking back to the magitek walkers being tuned in the front. One of those would suffice as an escape route. The airships would pose a threat, sure, but at least most of the soldiers and their weapons would be ineffective once they were airborne.   
  
“You there!” a sharp, feminine voice caused him to stop in his tracks. He turned his head to the right, where the corridor forked and stretched many yards and where the voice had come from.  
  
An entourage of Garlean soldiers were making their way towards him, headed by a Garlean woman in a ground-sweeping white coat. Her lengthy platinum-blonde hair was pulled back into a low, loose ponytail that trailed to her hips. A magitek monocle sat over one of her icy blue eyes, zooming in towards him.   
_  
Circe nan Blossius. The newest Primus Architectus Magiteci—head of their magitek development department. A poor replacement for Midas but far more ruthless._  
  
But perhaps it was who was just behind her that gave Gaius even more pause. The imposing midnight and silver armor of a high legatus was hard to miss, with horns that peeled back and curved not unlike those of a bull. It had been years since Gaius had laid eyes on such armor, crafted by the same cunning hand that had once crafted his own. That seemed like a lifetime ago.  
 _  
Vitus van Granius. One of Zenos’s most loyal attack dogs and so very far from his master. But I suppose it makes some amount of sense; a trial run regarding anything involving the Warrior of Light would force Zenos to provide one of his best._  
  
“Where are you going?! The route to the hanger is this way,” Circe snapped. “And did I not say that _two_ of you were to fetch the Asset? Where is Philo?”  
  
“Apologies,” Gaius said quickly. “Philo is… otherwise preoccupied. He sent me ahead with the Asset and a plea for your forgiveness.”  
  
“Useless,” Circe scowled.  
  
“Is there a problem, Blossius?” Vitus growled.  
  
“No, my liege, there is not. The Asset which will fuel the weapon is here,” Circe replied, one of her calloused hands resting upon the sealed Warrior of Light. “I do apologize for the delay in—”  
  
“Apologize by getting this underway. The stench of this savage land is _appalling_ and the Emperor would have me return with my full report before he departs for his next hunt,” Vitus replied scathingly—his malice so great that Circe visibly flinched.  
  
“O-of course!” Circe said then snapped her fingers at Gaius. “Follow us. And don’t you _dare_ dally.”  
  
As the legatus and the magitek genius began down the hall once more, Gaius knew he had to follow. The soldiers didn’t pay much attention to him, keeping their gaze locked forward, lest they invoke either of the pair’s wrath. Gaius’s reluctance showed in his pace, which slowed steadily over time as he quickly began to play all of his options through his mind. Surrounded by armed soldiers, he knew he stood little chance fending them all off—not with Vitus right there, fully armed and capable. He would have to bide his time and hope an opportunity presented itself… or else he feared what would happen otherwise.  
  
Gaius’s gaze trailed down to the cart bed in front of him, staring at the opaque glass and picturing the Warrior of Light’s peaceful expression. What did they mean to use her for? Surely nothing akin to the Weapon project, he hoped…  
  
He still remembered how it looked when they had pulled Milisandia out. Her body had melted into a bloody paste under the pressure of the auracite’s power, bits of her bone fusing into the weapon’s cockpit. The sight alone had been enough to make him unable to eat for weeks. Knowing that was the child he had plucked from the battlefield that fateful day… knowing how her laugh had sounded. How the skin near her eyes had crinkled when she smiled… It was too much to think about what had become of her.   
  
And then Ricon and Rex had soon followed. Too many lives taken out of greed and hubris.  
  
And now, here he was, carting the Warrior of Light to arguably the same fate. Or perhaps worse. The hanger doors that appeared ahead of them felt more like death signs, as though a guillotine may as well have awaited beyond instead of whatever fell Allagan-inspired creation the Garleans had crafted. But as much as he willed his feet to stop, he knew they could not and so he followed the entourage into the massive hanger. The doors shut behind them with a clamor that reminded him of those barbaric execution devices from old. What were they called ago? Ah yes. _Guillotines_.  
  
A quiet breath sucked into his lungs and he trapped it there, dragging his pale eyes to the central, looming figure the Garleans had prepared. Its familiarity shook him in a way that the other weapons hadn’t. If he had not witnessed the destruction of the Ultima Weapon all of those years ago, he might have thought somehow it was standing in front of him—repainted a glistening silver with a fell, corrupted purple glow about its body. Its meager wings had been made more skeletal, equipped with plasma laser cannons for further combat ability rather than for flight. Its face was also more or less the visage of death; shaped skull-like with extended canines bared in an eternal snarl.   
  
Staring at it reminded him of days long passed—days filled with cruel ignorance and greed. Those Allagan weapons were better left under the dirt, where they could rot forever, liberating the world of their poisonous influence. While this creation in front of him was definitely not crafted by the ancients, Gaius could tell that the Allagans had been used as an inspiration for its model. It was a mockery he was certain could prove lethal if he misjudged it. A single glance to the way that bits of the hull seemed to glow with corrupt aether made him all the more wary of what madness Circe had brought into this world.  
  
His grip around the cart’s handle tightened and he told himself not to dwell too long on such a dark train of thought. Quickly, Gaius took in the amount of enemies nearby. Two engineers were surveying something near the Weapon’s left foreleg. A few guards were idly stationed on the far side. There was an observation deck on the right wall, raised at least fifteen feet into the air for a better view of the weapon’s upper torso. To his left, he saw two magitek walkers sitting near the massive hanger door leading outside. A couple of soldiers, the pilots, no doubt, were nearby, standing about and chatting quietly amongst themselves. A line of reaper-class magitek walkers rested against the left wall—dormant but on standby. No doubt they were the first line of defense if something were to go awry with the Weapon.  
  
“Hmph. This is it, is it?” Vitus asked, unimpressed. “The design’s… _aesthetic_ could use work.”  
  
“We thought it appropriate to incorporate such a theme when we built it,” Circe protested. “Given some of the components. I, ah… don’t suppose you’re interested in hearing about them, my lord?”  
  
“I am not,” Vitus said blandly. “So long as this device serves it purpose, I could care less what you used to craft it.”  
  
“V-very well…” Circe said, then looked to Gaius with a set of indiscriminatingly cruel eyes. “Load the Asset into the Weapon. My lord, why don’t we take to the observation deck while preparations conclude? I promise a much more thrilling view from there.”  
  
“Then let us be about it,” Vitus replied and the two walked towards a small elevator to the right, leading no doubt to the aforementioned observation deck.  
  
The entourage departed with them and Gaius let out that breath he had been holding. Judging from the height the Weapon stood at, loading the Asset would require him to get access to the catwalks overhead. A second elevator down the hanger and to his left looked to be the right path directly up so he tentatively began towards it.   
_  
They will be going to the observation deck, likely talking the entire time. Most of these soldiers don’t look like they’re paying attention. If I act as though I am following orders…_  
  
Gaius pushed the cart, still keeping his docile act. Pretending like all was well was the key to buying as much time as possible. Behind his helm, he scanned for other options, slowing his pace ever so slightly.  
  
The main hanger door was open to the Coerthan wilderness, which remained ever blanketed by a layer of puffy white snow. Darkened skies loomed ahead and if the Black Wolf had been a superstitious man, he might have thought it was an ill-omen. A snow-ridden haze had befallen Coerthas—so thick it was hard to see. A bad day for a test run, Gaius mused, but he doubted Vitus cared about that.   
  
He carried on towards the elevator, each step forward feeling slightly more and more like a crime. His fingers clutched the cart’s handle tighter and tighter, olive eyes darting to the magitek walkers. They were so close to the elevator that he wondered if perhaps they would be suitable cover.  
  
Another hasty gander and the Black Wolf realized he had little alternatives.  
  
Carefully, he pushed the cart towards the elevator until he was out of sight from the observation deck. Ducking behind the closest magitek walker, Gaius pulled the cart next to its flank. He tossed a quick look around the hanger then undid the lid to the compartment containing the unconscious Raen. She was still unmoving, barely breathing—though he detected a slight shiver as the Coerthan wind whipped through the hanger. The lab coat draped over her would help blot out the cold but it was certainly not going help over a long amount of time. He glanced from her to the walker, realizing there was no subtle way to go about this. If the Garleans had not changed their protocols since his tenure as legatus, then all emergency vehicles would have their access keys already in the cockpit. Ready to go at a moment’s notice if one of the ‘savages’ came to their doorstep.  
  
He gambled that the key was there as he scooped the Raen from the cart. An apology was quickly mumbled to her as he threw her over his shoulder, grabbing a hold of his chosen vehicle and hoisting himself up. His arm secured itself around her waist, her ivory tail swishing back and forth as he hastily climbed up to the cockpit. The ridge of her tail’s scales bumped into his cheek.  
  
“Hold there!” shouted one of the engineers—the first to spy him.  
 _  
Let us hope this works.  
_  
Everything he had done since the fall of Eorzea had been done out of hope. As he seated himself, he pulled her into his lap. A cacophony of shouts told him that there was no time to delay. The key was exactly where he had thought it was—already in the keyhole with just a turn of the wrist to start the engine. He turned the walker on and looked up in time to see a bullet be fired from a nearby guard. Five of them were charging ahead at him, bullets zinging across the walker’s ebony hull. He grabbed the thruster and the walker charged forward.   
  
“Get back here!” a snarl over the intercom echoed behind him as he guided the walker towards the doors leading to the frosty outside.   
  
It had been some years since he had piloted one of these but his muscle memory was still impeccable. He turned the walker into flight mode, pushing forward on the thrusters to gain speed. Its stubby wings moved to either sides of the vessel’s body, indicating it was ready for flight. He didn’t dare look back—not at the soldiers firing bullets at them, not at the pilots scrambling to mount their own walkers, not at the seething Vitus and Circe in their damn observation deck. As soon as the hanger roof above them was clear, he forced the walker upward into the air.  
  
The wind that whipped across the open-air cockpit was cold—freezing cold. Snow was cascading from the gray clouds in thick sheets, buffeted by a whipping gale. The Raen stirred uncomfortably, pressing her spine into the hard metal of his disguise. He put a hand on her shoulder to still her during takeoff, maneuvering the walker with his free hand. A blast of energy zipped past his left wing and he quietly wished he could have commandeered a faster vehicle. This time, he did look back at the other walkers as they took flight after them. Brimming energy formed at their gaping, mouth-like cannons. He swerved to the right to evade some of them, but felt another strike true on the rear of his walker—a clear shot to the engines. They sputtered and flailed for a moment but persevered with a trail of smoke billowing behind them.   
  
They cleared the castrum’s walls, ascending further into the snowstorm. He chanced a look down at the shivering Raen, fear flashing through his mind that she might freeze to death before they even made it halfway back to the base. A second blast rocked the walker. Gaius gripped the steering and forced its nose upwards, hoping the walkers would give up the chase yet knowing they would be remorse to return back to their legatus empty-handed. A third blast and a panel fell off of the hull, into the white mess of a storm below. He pressed the walker as fast as it could go, leveling out its trajectory and reminding himself that he was flying virtually blind towards the Coerthan mountains. Rapidly, Gaius swapped the radar settings to help him navigate the storm. The area to his right illuminated with another blast from another walker. It was hard to hear over the sputtering roar of his walker’s engines but he was starting to think his pursuers were falling behind. Or maybe that was just more wishful thinking.  
  
The radar told him where the mountains were so he aimed the walker to fly between them. Smoke still plumed from the back of its hull but he hoped fervently that the snowstorm was enough to shroud it. He guided the walker around the side of one of the mountains, glancing down at the radar then back up at the bleak swirl of snow and wind around them. A few moments of howling quiet around them ensued—just long enough to give Gaius Baelsar a spark of hope that they had lost their pursuers.  
  
And then the final blast hit.


	4. Grit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having made it out of Castrum Nocte's walls, Gaius and the Warrior of Light have crash-landed somewhere in the Coerthan Central Highlands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to start this chapter off by thanking everyone for the support thus far. When I started this, I felt like it was a super daunting task that probably wouldn't get more than a like or two. But I have felt very encouraged by the kudos/comments left on this piece! So thank you so much for taking the time to read and for leaving behind some positivity.
> 
> Here is the next chapter with the promise of the chapter after this one following close behind, as it is in the beta reader's hands.

The walker rocketed forward, the engines dying. He grabbed a hold of the Raen as they began their rapid descent. Crackling and popping from the engines heralded an eventual burst of fiery red flame. Its heat seared the back of his neck, the wind whistling in his ears as they fell.   
  
_We die here. There’s no other outcome.  
_  
Final thoughts before the walker smashed into the snowy ground, far faster than the Black Wolf could have anticipated. They must have been going over a ridge, he realized, arms wrapped around the bundled, unconscious Warrior of Light in a feeble attempt to shield her. He and the Raen spilled from the cockpit, tumbling into the snow.  
  
He landed on his back, pulling her into his chest. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw the magitek walker’s nose embedded thoroughly into a white dune of snow. A plume of fire had engulfed the back half of the vehicle, a lethal, ebony trail of smoke wafting into the cold air. Gaius glanced down at the Raen in his arms, marveling briefly at how she seemed so undisturbed. Yet just as the thought crossed his mind, her expression changed slightly—brows furrowing and mouth moving slightly. Yet, she did not awaken and the Black Wolf was left to lift her, re-tuck her into the stolen lab coat, and then stiffly rise.  
  
Getting her out of the cold was his first priority. In the storm, it was hard to ascertain where they had landed, but he conjectured that Snowcloak could not have been far. That meant his gear was somewhere nearby—but too far away to worry about for now. Distant whirring in the storm alerted him to patrolling Garleans overhead and Gaius quickly decided it was time to depart the wreckage. He began through the snow, which rose halfway up his shin. Gaius arched over her, trying his best to shield her from the winds. Her face had paled considerably since departing the castrum and the longer that time passed, the more he began to fear she would not make it. A lab coat for a blanket could only do so much.  
  
Their salvation was a shallow cave in the ridge. It was not too far from the wreckage—a fact that scared him. But as the temperatures seemed to drop and the Warrior of Light’s face seemed to lose color, the more he realized that shelter was necessary. He pulled her into the farthest depths of the cave then began shedding his armor, casting it aside. Although he had left his overcoat with Heirsbane, he still had a few layers he could share with her. Gaius slipped off the long-sleeved shirt he had been wearing under the armor, pulling it over her head. She was so small that the single article of clothing almost swallowed her whole. He pulled her into his chest, feeling the coldness of her fingertips. His palm went over her hands, squeezing them gently and rubbing warmth into them. Each digit felt like an icicle, her skin paled with a hint of blue taking to her flesh.   
  
Her mouth opened again and this time, he could hear what she was saying. There was a hoarseness in her throat, making each word a whisper.  
  
“Ysayle…’s not funny…”  
  
What an odd thing to say.   
  
Gaius continued massaging her hands, trying his best to warm them. With his free hand, he grabbed the linkpearl that would connect him to his private channel with Estinien. It seemed like it had been a long time since they had used these.  
  
“Estinien,” he said into the linkpearl. “Requesting assistance. I know not where I have landed. The side of a ridge. There will be smoke—if you are fortunate enough to see it. I found her.”  
  
No reply. No reply. No reply. The Warrior of Light stirred again, pressing further into him for warmth. A tiny groan fell from her lips—incoherent and pained. He knew she stood no chance like this. Not in this weather. Not after everything they had done to her.  
  
“Understood,” Estinien said crisply on the other end of the line. “A retrieval squad has been sent your way.” Apprehension reigned in his voice. “How… does she fare?”  
  
“Poorly,” Gaius replied at once. “Ready the best medics we have available.”  
  
“I will see to it,” Estinien answered and the line went dead.  
  
All there was left to do was wait and he hoped they did not have to wait long. His silver eyes skirted to her, feeling the chill from outside reach his own skin. He shivered, resting his scruffy chin atop her head. Gaius Baelsar was not the praying sort, but something similar enough crossed his mind in that bleak quiet. The only noise outside was the sound of the weather worsening and the occasional grumble of Garlean technology as their pursuers searched for them.   
  
The time spent waiting gave him time to reflect. Strange how the years passed, segmented into chapters that made up his storied life. From strutting young soldier to revered legatus to wanted criminal. Sometimes, he wished he could have seen it all coming. Maybe he would have clung a bit harder onto the sweeter moments before. Not that it was particularly easy to discern those from all of the sour memories. Everything from before Praetorium felt tainted and he was certain that bitterness was something he could never shake away. Even looking down at her, it was hard to not feel the weight of his own guilt. He had set this foundation long ago and now she suffered for it. They all suffered for it.  
  
She stirred again but no words this time. Her next inhale was sharper and he perked up, fearing she would awaken before they returned back to their headquarters. He was not even sure how to explain any of this. Not to someone who had been comatose for a year. But thankfully, she remained pleasantly sleeping and he sighed out a tiny measure of relief, continuing to rub warmth back into each of her frozen digits. Funny, how he was so keen on keeping her hands warm. Those hands had tried to kill him before. But they didn’t seem so powerful now.  
  
“By the Twelve!” a voice came, eventually, from the snowstorm outside. “Over here!”  
  
A proclamation of Eorzean gods was not likely to belong to a Garlean so Gaius lowered his defenses. Several figures manifested from the nothingness blowing outside—a tiny lalafell, a thin elezen, and a medium-sized miqo’te. Krile, Estinien, and one of their scouts—N’anrih or something like that. He was not sure what to say to them as they entered his meager hiding place. His gaze wandered up to Estinien, who hesitated at the mouth of the cave, his stormy blue eyes narrowing.   
  
“It really _is_ her,” Krile said as she neared Gaius’s side, eyes stretched wide. “I… I can’t believe it…”  
  
“She is…” Gaius began. “… Unwell. We must get her out of the cold.”  
  
“Got Garlean ships coming from our 4 o’clock, accordin’ to my scanner,” N’anrih announced, her voice almost lost in the whipping winds. “We took a slipper. I can navigate the storm.”  
  
“When we get back to Stilled Ice, I must take a look at her,” Krile insisted. “I can already tell her aether is abnormal. What… what were they doing with her?”  
  
“I am unsure,” Gaius admitted. “Something with the Weapon Project. I arrived just before they placed her into the pilot’s chair.”

“Gods…” Krile whispered.  
  
The slipper they piled into was one that had been crafted using schematics before the fall of Eorzea. Cid had fashioned it to skim over the sands at one point—similar to one the Warrior of Light had used in her otherworldly journeys. Or so the Black Wolf had heard, at least. They had been able to modify the vehicle for snow travel sometime after. Their new Chief of Magitek had even thrown on a gatling gun at the back for “flair”, or so he claimed. Nero was never one to pass up theatrics or drama, Gaius noted sourly. However, he was perhaps a bit more thankful for Nero’s addition to the slipper. Having some form of weaponry against any airborne assailants was more than welcome that dark, blizzardy evening.  
  
N’anrih piloted them away, speeding through the snow and crispy wind. It was hard to tell anything that was happening ahead of them, or even if they were seconds away from hurtling into the trunk of a pine. But somehow the miqo’te was able to manage it and Gaius left her to it. Estinien, who looked as though he was trying his hardest not to eat every snowflake as they sped along, turned to look back at Gaius with a severe expression. He handed him Heirsbane, along with his other personal effects.  
  
“I know you a tad too well these days,” the salty elezen stated.  
  
“And I am grateful for it,” the Black Wolf replied, pulling his coat around the unconscious Warrior of Light. She was nestled between him and Krile, her face slumped against his arm. He was careful to not move it as to avoid disturbing her.  
  
“You said they were devising a new Weapon?” Krile asked.  
  
“Yes,” came his stiff, abrupt answer.  
  
Her thin brows furrowed. “Troubling, indeed. What purpose does an empire that has conquered everything have for something so atrocious?”

“They have _not_ conquered everything,” Gaius replied simply and the lalafell went quiet.  
  
The slipper wove its way through the frosted pines, their unpaved road spilling out into an iced canyon nestled between two of Coerthas’s mountains. Snowcloak was ahead—or, rather, the part of it that their rebellion had opted to inhabit, which Tataru had dubbed the ‘Stilled Ice’. It was some reference to _something_ , he was sure. A thousand tunnels were etched into its frozen depth, forming a labyrinth that protected them from any prying Imperial eyes. It was said a heretical rebellion had once settled here and Gaius believed it—they left ample enough evidence in the draconic and skeletons left behind. Old ruins had melded into the ice and stone, forming a ghastly entrance to where the last traces of hope dwelled.   
  
Their hanger was crafted into the mountain and hidden by glamours and stone. The touch of a button on a remote N’anrih wielded and the stone door slid open. She guided the slipper inside, and at once Gaius felt the stark difference between the brisk evening air and the inside of their hidden home. The door shut behind them and the darkness was kept at bay by a series of blue-illuminated crystals that had been fastened to the walls.  
  
They had attracted the attention of their engineers immediately, who slowly ceased their work to see what was going on. Gaius felt their prying gazes on him as he tucked his coat around the Warrior of Light’s shoulders even _more_ snugly before reaching beneath her to lift her up. He kept her face as concealed as possible. It would be a shame for them all to see her like this.  
  
“Tsk. What a terrible day for a ride,” Nero Scaeva commented as they disembarked from the slipper. His blue eyes narrowed as they fell upon Gaius, scrutinizing him as he lifted the Raen. “And what is that you have there?”  
  
“Nothing of consequence,” Gaius said curtly.  
  
“Ha! As if I should believe—” Nero began.  
  
“ _Nero,_ ” the Black Wolf sternly cut him off.  
  
Nero fell silent but followed after the small entourage, his intriguing eyes chasing after Gaius as they made for the door leading out of the hanger and into the base proper. N’anrih rushed ahead of them, opening the door for Gaius so he could pass through without trouble. Estinien was on his heels, Krile struggling to keep up the pace of the two much longer legged men.   
  
The section of Snowcloak’s tunnels they had claimed was crafted of rock and wood, with columns reinforcing the ceilings. The walls were clumsily concealed with stone as insulation from the glacier’s chill. Rooms splintered off in every direction—same with more pathways, forming an impossible maze that Gaius had been forced to learn over the last year. It had taken some effort and time but he knew each crag in the floor like the back of his scarred hands.   
  
“A room has been prepared in the barracks,” Estinien informed him. “Our best chirurgeons should be there.”  
  
“I fear she will need more than that,” Krile piped up from where she was sprinting behind them.  
  
“Everything we can muster,” Gaius said sharply.  
  
N’anrih fetched the door for Gaius again when they arrived to the place Estinien had set aside for their enfeebled savior. Much as he had claimed, there was a veritable team of healers on standby. He lowered her onto the bed and stepped away—watching as they pounced upon her frail, shivering body like hyenas upon dying prey. Krile stood by anxiously, eventually grabbing a chair and standing on it to get a better view of what was happening.

“Oh my,” Nero remarked after wandering over to take a glance at the frail patient, his words carrying the first traces of laughter. “Now what was Zenos doing with _that_ I wonder?”

No one deigned to answer him.  
  
Gaius took his place doorway, rooted to the spot as they worked on her. One of them took the time to return his overcoat back to him yet all he could do was stand there with it draped sloppily over one of his arms. His silver eyes watched the glow of their magic with his heart pulsating in his throat and ears. It was a steady, terrified beat. Had he been a moment too late? Ten months too late? Were they about to watch hope fade from their eyes in front of them?  
  
His teeth gnashed together in frustration but he tried to placate that rising rage with something more palatable. At least if she died here, she died in the hands of those who cared for her. She would die not strung up to some Garlean weaponry, used and beaten. She would die without the knowledge of what they had done to her. A far more merciful end than many others who had stood in the way of the Bloody Emperor.  
  
“Come,” Estinien said, cutting him from his pessimistic musings. “We are doing no good here.”  
  
Estinien spirited him away to their dining hall, where the chef immediately slid them both bowls of warmed broth and some sliced sourdough bread. It was hard at first to find his appetite but the warmth of the soup banished the last fringes of cold that still clung to him. He finished the bowl and let the heat of it sit in his stomach as his mind crawled its way back to that cramped room with all of those chirurgeons.   
  
Twin mugs of ale were placed next their plates by waitstaff. Gaius glanced down at the foaming amber liquid apprehensively. It had taken a fair amount of time and effort to start enjoying alcohol—particularly the cheap Eorzean kind they kept around their headquarters. He had never been partial to drinking. It dulled the mind too much and having spent a fair time being legatus, he found that he could simply not spare the time for such luxuries. There had been provinces to govern in those days, and responsibility was a heavy burden.  
  
But since Eorzea’s fall, he had learned to like alcohol, in a bitter way.  
  
Estinien held his mug out and Gaius clinked his against the elezen’s. Their ale sloshed and they both brought the mugs to their mouths, drinking wistfully. They had made this into a bit of a habit lately. It made Gaius feel a bit closer to his age—grizzled, old, and tired. But there was something about it that was nice. Estinien was far his junior but he had an old soul about him. And when the elezen made his snide remarks about the Black Wolf’s greying streaks, Gaius was quick to point out Estinien’s full head of silver hair.

“Surely you have more words to spare on your venture into Castrum Nocte,” Estinien said as he brought his mug back to the table’s surface.   
  
“I suppose Lady Tataru will want a full report,” Gaius replied as he broke apart a slice of bread. “It was much as you could imagine, Estinien.”  
  
“Did you see it? The Weapon?” Estinien asked.  
  
“I did.”  
  
“… I take it from that response, it is formidable.”  
  
“They all have been in the past. I see no reason to underestimate this one.”

“A fair assessment. And our typical Weapon slayer is… dormant, to put it lightly.”

“Very lightly.”  
  
The former Azure Dragoon stared at him for a long time, then took a deep drink of his broth. “But she was going to be in the Weapon, so it is thus rendered useless as of now…?”  
  
“Presumably. Until there is another,” Gaius answered stiffly. In his experience, there was always another. Someone else to put to the pyre for the sake of glory. _Milisandia, Ricon, Rex--  
_  
He cut those thoughts off. It was better that way.  
  
“They had her enclosed in a tube of liquid. I had never seen its like before. I assume it was to keep her sedated. The engineers claimed she had not awakened in ten months,” Gaius continued. “I confess I know not else of what was done to her. The scars on her body indicate… _procedures_. But even in my time, such a thing was not done. I would have never condoned it.”  
  
“All will be revealed with time. Her recovery will be time-consuming yet worth it.”  
  
“ _If_ she is to recover.”

“How properly morose of you.”  
  
“I only speak what we all fear, Estinien.”  
  
“Hmph. You wear your doubts on your sleeve and forget much. You and I both know how formidable a warrior she is,” Estinien replied. “First-hand, for the both of us.”  
  
“That she is,” Gaius agreed quietly.

The doors opened and Tataru came racing towards them, her lilac hair trailing behind her. She stopped near Estinien’s chair. As the table was just too tall to make eye contact with Gaius, she climbed into the chair next to Estinien, her thin brows slanting inward with disdain. She did not take a seat.  
  
“And… and… and what is all of this!?” Tataru exclaimed at Gaius.  
  
“Good evening, Lady Tataru,” Gaius said politely, returning to his mug of ale and drinking even deeper. He felt as though he would be needing it.  
  
“Do not ‘good evening’ me, Gaius Baelsar!” Tataru sputtered. “As if… as if nothing has happened! As if—”  
  
She fell into a babble of incoherent noises and Gaius’s eyes flashed towards Estinien, who promptly hid his face behind his mug.   
  
“I just received a report from N’anrih that…” Tataru finally managed, her violet eyes brimming with emotion. “… That you found Kaida.”

“That I did,” Gaius answered calmly.  
  
“Then where is she!? Why didn’t you come get me at once?!” Tataru exclaimed.   
  
“My lady, I hardly doubt the _three_ of us were necessary to carry such a brief, albeit noteworthy message,” Estinien said. “She is in the barracks, being tended to by every medic we can spare. Her condition is—”  
  
“Take me to her!” Tataru cut him off, her tears a bit more evident.   
  
Estinien scowled at her.   
  
“We can do that,” Gaius said. “I must advise you, Lady Tataru, that she is very unwell. I do not even know if she will awaken. The Garleans have done much to her. The damage could be irreparable.”  
  
“I don’t care!” Tataru cried out. “Just take me to her.”  
  
“Understood,” Gaius nodded, rising from his chair. Obeying orders was a kneejerk reaction. Even if they did come from a superior much smaller than the ones he was used to.   
  
“I can do it, if you require more time to rest,” Estinien said, still sipping from his mug.  
  
“That is unnecessary,” Gaius replied. “I will, however, ask that you watch my drink.”  
  
“Finally taken to Eorzean ale, have you?” Estinien asked with that small taunt in his voice.  
  
“It is bearable enough with decent company.”

The walk back was full of Tataru talking, although Gaius was keenly aware the lalafell was chattering away to stave off some level of anxiety she was feeling. He did not blame her; they had finally found the single person who had a record of defeating Zenos zos Galvus. That was hope incarnate for their hopeless band. And as the acting leader of the rebellion, Tataru knew the tides could soon change in their favor. All they needed was for their Warrior of Light to pull through.  
  
“I just had a meeting with Godbert. Thank the Twelve he’s managed to stay undetected as a member of the Resistance. He says the Syndicate has been disgruntled as of late—good news for us. Though they’re able to continue their business, the legatus receives quite the hefty cut from it-- all of their business. I’m certain if we can prove our mettle, we can win them over… Oh! Kaida being back will help, surely. I mean, they quite loathed her but that’s beside the point. She swings her sword, heads roll and they… well, they’ll either cower in fear or be clamoring to help us. And just think! More funding will get this operation off the ground. Maybe we can afford a proper hideout… oh, not that the Stilled Ice is a bad home, per say, just a bit chilly…” Tataru rambled. Gaius kept his silence, letting her vent out whatever she needed.   
  
“Estinien has been doing some spy work as well. There seems to be another resistance faction in the Twelveswood of all places. I thought the entire blasted thing was haunted these days, what with the Garleans razing the northern half and the Elementals rising in full force. We’ve yet to make contact but I have high hopes! I… I have to…” Tataru continued on, voice trembling towards the end. “It’s… hard to carry on without hope… ha… but I suppose that’s r-rather dark… especially today. Today is a good day and all. She’s back…”  
  
“Lady Tataru,” Gaius said, side-eying her.  
  
“Yes? What is it?” the lalafell asked, craning her head back to look at him.  
  
She was young, he reminded himself. Young and nervous but the heart of their operation. Without her, none of this had been possible.  
  
“One step before the next,” he cautioned her gently.  
  
Kaida’s room came into sight before long and he found himself both eager to see what progress had been made and afraid. His fear was rooted in guilt; that this was his fault in an indirect way. That she would never be able to recover. That they would watch the last hope for their future burn out and become ash. 

He opened the door, steeling himself.  
  
The sight within was much as he had left it. Kaida lay on her back in the bed he had left her in. Her torso was covered by a sheet and the flock of medics had been reduced to two and Krile. The hooded lalafell had one of the Raen’s hands in hers, a dreary, melancholy smile on her lips. She perked up at the sight of Tataru and Gaius, lowering Kaida’s hand to the bed. Tataru raced to the bedside, her fingers clutching tight the sheets that sheltered the thin Au Ra’s body.  
  
“By the gods, it really is her,” breathed their stout leader, violet eyes teary all over again. She sniffled, climbing up next to the Raen and brushing an unruly twig of hair out of her eyes. “She’s so thin…”  
  
There was a hoarseness in Tataru’s voice that made the aftertaste of ale strengthen on his tongue. A heart-brokenness as the lalafell looked over her feeble friend, blubbery tears splashing onto the white sheets. Her breathing was taut, breaking apart at the seams as she held back sobs. He was not entirely sure they were not sobs of grief. Tataru’s short arms wrapped around the Raen’s neck, her face pressed into Kaida’s wild mane of hair. Her body shook as she bawled, each gasp tiny and shivering. For some reason, it was hard to watch. He averted his gaze to the floor, tracing over the stone pattern underfoot with his eyes.  
  
“She will live,” Krile announced wearily, looking to Gaius. “But as I said before, her aether has been tainted. By what, I do not yet know. But her body is fighting it back. I… cannot say when she will recover fully. If she ever will.”  
  
“That she will live is good enough news for the moment. The rest is a battle we will ready for when the time comes,” he replied.

“I will stay by her side to make sure nothing changes overnight. But the chirurgeons are hopeful she will awaken soon,” Krile said. She leaned forward, gently patting Tataru’s back. “I can notify you as soon as that happens.”  
  
“O-of course!” Tataru’s voice was diminished, a mere squeak.  
  
Their young leader wiped away her tears with the back of her tiny hand, smearing some of her make up in the process. Lower lip still trembling, Tataru longingly looked to the unconscious Raen. A reverent quiet fell over the room and Gaius could feel that perhaps it would be best for him to leave them to their thoughts as they sat with the Warrior of Light. They had all known each other the longest, he mused, and he did not want to leave Estinien guarding his drink for long. He turned to depart but it was Tataru’s voice that planted him just shy of the doorway.  
  
“Gaius.”  
  
His posture stiffened. He glanced back at her over his shoulder.   
  
“Thank you,” she whispered to him and he silently took his leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I live for Tataru scolding Estinien and Gaius and both them just accepting that this is their life now.


	5. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now safe within the Rebellion's headquarters, Gaius looks to the next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Showcase and LL didn't mention Gaius so I'm here to give us Gaius content.
> 
> I have formally decided to bump up the rating to E for future explicit (sexual) scenes. I have also added the following tags: Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture, and Flashbacks. Be advised that these tags have been added purely because I've gotten a better grasp on what the overall story is going to look like and those elements may crop up in the future. The torture/referenced torture scenes will not be in this chapter. I already know what character tags I will be adding but I think I'm going to wait to add them just because I don't want to bait people into thinking they are already in the story.
> 
> I'm only bumping the rating to explicit because of sexual scenes. There will not be anything graphic gore-wise. I'm squeamish. 
> 
> Be advised that this is a chapter where more of the setting will start to come to light and you, as the reader, will start to understand who is still alive, who is dead, and who is missing. I want to make it clear that when I made these storytelling choices, I thought of what felt appropriate for each character in this scenario. I don't like dark AUs where people are killed off without much thought from the author so I endeavored to make each grim fate fitting and not meaningless, as if it could happen if the devs were to take a dark turn with FFXIV (that isn't Black Rose, I guess lol). Also just because I kill off a character does not mean that I hate them. I actually really struggled writing some of this because one of my faves didn't make the cut. But sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do for your dark AU fic.
> 
> One final note (so sorry for the length on the pre-chapter notes) but although I do refer to Kaida as a Raen, she is not pureblooded Raen. Her father is half Xaela and hails from the Malaguld tribe in the Steppe. Just to avoid any confusion.
> 
> The next two chapters will be along very shortly.

The next day, Gaius felt the consequences of crashing the magitek walker tenfold. His back awoke him, angrily pained to the point where an agonized gasp tore through his mouth, silver eyes wide and staring through the ceiling of his quarters. At once his hand snapped to the bedside table to his left, forefinger hooking the rung to the top drawer. He tugged on it, pulling it open and grabbing one of the vials inside. It took effort to sit up, parts of his spine cracking in the process but once he managed it, he downed the vial of potion and rested his back against the cold wall behind him.

He took a few moments to breathe, his exhales haggard with pain for a few long seconds as the potion settled in. His fingers intertwined into the sheets in an iron grip that calmed over time. Tataru had told him to get himself checked out with the medics but he had shirked that advice in favor of retiring to bed early. Nothing had _seemed_ wrong yesterday but now that his body had time to rest, it had time to realize what a harrowing experience he had put it through. He grumbled out an incoherent babble as he slipped out of his bed, hobbling towards where Nero had set up a Mark XV Thermocoil Boilmaster in the corner of his room. He set it to make him a cup of tea and then made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up.

Stilled Ice did not contain a fully furnished residential quarters. His bathroom had a shower head installed but its water was mostly melt from the glacier. It made for a freezing wake up every day and its touch that morning felt a bit like icicles biting his back as it came out. His showers were never long. The cold was almost too much to bear so he cleaned quickly, dried off, dressed, and then made his way to where his cup of tea was sitting. Its heat radiated from the cup and he held onto it, hoping it would stave off the cold from the shower.

A knock at the door took him by surprise. His silver eyes cut to the door for a moment, thinking about how it would be proper to go open it for his guest. But his back sharply reminded him that today was a day that should be spent resting and he sat down at a small corner table in his room instead, setting his cup of tea down.

“Come in,” he bade whoever it was and was unsurprised to see Estinien step inside.

“You appear to be feeling poorly,” the elezen said at once and the edges of the Black Wolf’s mouth dipped into a frown. Was he so transparent?

“An interesting observation. I would say I feel rather normal.”

“An ill attempt at a lie but nevertheless a valiant effort. Are you injured after yesterday?”

Gaius took a wistful sip of his tea before making his disgruntled half-confession.

“Perhaps a bit.”

“You either are or are not.”

“It is nothing worth mentioning.”

Estinien did not look convinced but relented. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at Gaius as the Garlean averting his gaze and sipped more on his tea. From the corner of his eye, he saw the shaggy-haired elezen shake his head in disapproval.

“I did not come here to chide you, believe it or not. I did come to inform you of what transpired in your absence,” Estinien said gruffly, taking a seat across Gaius. “We have made contact with another rebel faction to the south. They are holed up in an Amdapori settlement at the very edge of the Black Shroud. Surely a place more fortified than this.”

“Tataru spoke to me of this yesterday. Who leads them?” Gaius asked warily.

“We cannot be certain, and therein lies the problem. They seem to be a skittish lot; even when our scouts tried to approach amiably, they did not stay to chat for long. Lady Tataru remains certain that with more efforts, we can befriend them. But why they are so wary of even friends is… _concerning_ ,” Estinien stated.

“It is a perilous time,” Gaius pointed out. “I cannot say I blame them.”

“Let me rephrase; their skittishness is bordering on crazed paranoia. And you know well how the Twelveswood fares. I dare not keep any agents close by,” Estinien said. “Yet I imagine meeting with them will be our next step. Having the Warrior of Light present for such talks would be ideal.”

“I would be remiss to send her to such a dangerous place so soon,” Gaius shook his head. “How does she fare this morning?”

“I have yet to hear of any changes,” Estinien shook his head. 

“A pity,” Gaius remarked, sipping down his tea until it sat in only in the latter half of his cup.

“There are rumors who are in this faction to the south,” Estinien added. “They say a white-haired Garlean is there.”

Gaius’s eyes rose to meet Estinien’s.

“Cid.”

There was numbness there and a fear that he dared not hope too much. Cid was one of their rank that was unaccounted for. He had been ever since the Warrior of Light fell to Zenos. Biggs and Wedge had long thought him dead. When Jessie also went missing, they had to dig through a fair number of documents to ascertain who held the ownership to Garlond Ironworks. When Nero’s name had been found as Cid’s successor, there had been… well, more than a few words shouted between the three. But what it had all resulted in was Nero falling into Cid’s place. And Cid remaining a ghost from the past. Just like all the others they had lost.

“I cannot say for certain and I dare not make mention of it to Biggs and Wedge… nor Nero, for that matter. But if it is true then we have our lead into an alliance with this strange group,” Estinien replied carefully. “I can think of no one better to reach out to him than you.”

At that, Gaius scarcely could hide a grimace, which he attempted to mask with another thoughtful sip of tea.

“Lady Asagiri will suffice.”

“And yet I thought you were remiss to send her to—”

“I know what I said.”

“Were you not a father figure to him?” Estinien asked, voice rising slightly.

“A poor excuse for one,” Gaius said gruffly.

The dragoon stared at him for a long time, stormy eyes prying into his. He hated it when Estinien did that—said things that revived old wounds and expected him not to flinch in memory. The Black Wolf stared back at Estinien until he found he could not any longer, returning to his tea with a moody sip. The cup clanked loudly when he sat it back down.

“Is there anything else of note?” Gaius asked.

“No. And I shan’t disturb you any longer. N’anrih will be back with a report on Castrum Nocte any moment. I should think your stunt yesterday caused a bit of a—” Estinien replied, his last word obscured by the shrill sound of a woman’s scream.

Gaius and Estinien were on their feet in a flash, headed to the door. Estinien made it there first, opening it and drawing a dagger from his belt with teeth gnashed in pre-emptive anger. Gaius followed suit, stalking into the hallway and soon catching sight of what was transpiring.

A young hyuran maid was on her back in the corridor, clutching a half-spilled basket of laundry to her chest. She stared ahead at where Kaida had very evidently woken up and was standing in the hallway, back slightly hunched. Her thin form was distinctly devoid of clothes, his scars exposed. There was something feral about her emerald eyes and her upper lip peeled back in a sneer.

“Y-you…” Kaida’s throat was marred with dry hoarseness, her thin finger lifting slowly and pointing at the maid. Her face was mostly concealed by her wild hair, creating a gaunt, disturbing image as she stumbled a feeble step forward. “I’ll… kill you…”

“Lady Asagiri!” Gaius shouted.

Her eyes moved to him, flashing like lightning with barely-contained wrath. And then they widened. And then after that, softened.

“W-what…?” She asked, a heartbreaking innocence about her confusion. 

Kaida’s next step was uncoordinated, her entire body swaying. Her pupils flitted about wildly, as if trying hard to focus but unable to. He could see weakness in her legs, her muscles deteriorated. Her next step caused the hyuran made to shriek and run, the shrill noise echoing down the hallways of their half-frozen abode. Kaida’s hand went to her forehead, cringing at the loudness. Her fingers dug into her bangs, twisting knots into them as she staggered forward. Weak step after weak step, her free hand wildly trying to grab the wall and missing. Her left knee collapsed.

Two strides and he caught her before she fell all the way to the ground, his arm snug around her stomach. Her hands grabbed onto the fabric of his clothes for support but he realized she was too weak to pick herself up. A careful gander was tossed to Estinien, who was trying to dissuade a growing crowd of rebels from sticking around. Gaius resolved not to remove the situation from Kaida but remove Kaida from the situation. He scooped her up wordlessly, her fingers gripping harder. A soft-spoken mantra filtered from her dry, cracked lips. It took a few repetitions before he understood what she was saying.

“Don’t… don’t…”

Feverish delirium, he mused to himself. After existing so long in captivity, there was no telling what she was begging for him not to do to her.

“Calm,” was all he said and her fingers squeezed his shirt tighter.

The trip back to her room was brief and before long, she was back under the bedsheets. Her breathing had a haggard noise to it, as if she were ill. She coughed, the pained noise her throat made making his own throat prickle. 

“Rest,” he said.

“No…” she protested weakly. Slowly, Kaida pushed herself upright into a sitting position, a single plea drifting from her mouth. “Water…”

He fetched her a cup without a second thought, lifting it to her mouth after filling it. She drank it greedily, one of her cold hands resting atop his to try to steady herself. When she was done, she leaned back, blinking and looking up at the ceiling. What thoughts were dancing about her head, he could not say. But the longer she sat there, the wider her eyes grew. Was she starting to recollect everything? Was she starting to realize what had happened?

Kaida opened her mouth, voice hoarse and feeble…

“I know you.”

The statement was as clear as she had sounded yet. She side-eyed him, turning her head slightly. Her chipped, fin-like horns scraped against the wall but she did not even seem to notice. Instead, she looked directly into his eyes, a familiar devious twinkle about them.  
  
“What… no monologue this time…?”  
  
Gaius’s mouth creased into a flat scowl. Barely awake and she was already throwing jabs?

Somehow, that was fitting.

The left corner of Kaida’s mouth drew up into a pleased smirk but it died almost at once. Her body gave a small spasm, reawakening to the sensations of the waking world. As her breath quickened, the former legatus could see fear start to infiltrate her eyes.   
  
You are safe,” he said quickly and the Raen eased only slightly. “I can summon the medics. Are you pained?”

“A bit. Everywhere,” Kaida replied stiffly. “I… didn’t expect to see you. Thought it’d be Aymeric. It’s always Aymeric.”

Gaius felt his stomach churn. They must have kept her ill-informed in the Castrum. Anyone who had been paying attention knew that Zenos's men had executed Aymeric a year ago, when the invasion on Ishgard had finished. Aymeric’s blood was said to have soaked the Steps of Faith so deeply that the bricks now remained red despite the elements and vigorous scrubbing.

Kaida coughed dryly, wincing as she did so. Tiny agonized tears trickled down her cheeks, splashing onto the white sheets. Her arms found enough strength to lift the blankets to better cover herself. It was a pathetic sight to see—a woman who had embodied Eorzea’s fiery spirit reduced to this feeble mess. What had they called her before? Ah, yes. Eorzea’s Little Dragon. That name had come about in the days before he had given the Eorzean leaders his ultimatum. And then the Wolf and Dragon had clashed.

It was a bitter memory and when he looked at her, there were parts of him that still clung to old feelings. Admiration of her strength. Hatred over what she had done to Rhitatyn and Livia. Respect for her resolve to save her home. He supposed they had both acted out of necessity back then. But their deeds had left unspoken emotions between them and now that she was awake, he could sense the uncertainty rear its ugly head.

The door opened and Estinien emerged with Krile in tow. He was thankful for the distraction, watching Krile as she raced to Kaida’s bedside. Gaius filled the cup of water again and set it on a table next to her bed. He glanced at Estinien, who passively tossed a gander his way—a certain ruggedness about the shadows seeping under his eyes. Was it possible for the dragoon to look even more tired? Gaius did not think so.

“Kaida, thank the Twelve you’re awake. We were so worried!” Krile exclaimed.

“I apologize,” the Raen said. “I… suppose I was a little reckless back there. Another one of Alisaie’s scoldings are probably in order.”

Gaius took note of Krile’s expression faltering, but the lalafell quickly changed the subject.

“R-right… Well, we’ve let Tataru know you’ve awakened. She and the head of our medic team ought to be along shortly,” Krile replied.

It was not a subtle dodge but it sufficed, Gaius thought. 

“It’s… cold,” Kaida commented, glancing about the room with a slight squint about her eyes. “This isn’t the Rising Stones…?”

“No… no, ‘tis not,” Krile said, lowering her gaze. “Listen, there is a lot we will have to talk about. B-but now is not the time. Kaida… do you remember anything? From before you woke up…?”

“No,” came the short answer but the Raen gave immediate pause after.

He could see memories return in front of her eyes. Her lips parted to say something but the words were choked back by something unseen. Kaida’s eyes swept across the room—back and forth quickly, as if searching for something. Something she evidently could not find; before long, her hands had grabbed deep into the sheets, balling fists around the cloth as her breath hitched into a gasp. 

Gaius averted his gaze when she asked the question even he did not know how to answer.

"How… how bad is it…?”

Krile’s next sigh was a shudder.

“Bad… It is quite bad, Kaida.”

* * *

She remembered the way the Garlean imperial ships cut through the blackened haze like knives through butter, unbothered by the violent purple screeches of lightning all around them. Magitek walkers were lined for miles, cannon fire like stars in the darkness. The land below their feet was ravaged and dead. Sharp rocks cut ridges into the sky—ridges to hide behind as the invasion pressed forward into Ghimlyt. A boom of thunder announced the Garlean fleet onto the fray, but Kaida had not been sure it was thunder so much as the sound of their guns aimed at their platoon. Afraid yet unafraid, they had pressed forward because there had been no other options.

Her memories were not a movie; they were a slideshow of puzzle pieces that vaguely fit into a segment she could make sense of. Magitek and corpses both were washed away as the storm raged, strong but not quite strong enough to quench the flames of war around them. The putrid scent of death intermingled with smoke and rain, creating a smell that still clung in her nose’s memory. As her claymore had cut down a centurion, Kaida’s eyes lifted skyward in a fragmented image that still chilled her to the bone—through the lightning, she saw the imperial dreadnought. Its silhouette was outlined by the violet bolts from the sky. Someone yelled that it was the Emperor’s flagship and she remembered the distinct pale cyan glow of Deathbringer as she pointed its tip at the ship.

 _'That’s mine,’_ her own voice rang in her memory. A hubris to have thought she could take on a whole ship but odds be damned, she was the Warrior of Light and the Warrior of Light never bowed to odds or fear. The Blessing of Light had kept her. And would keep her always.

The next brief image was the sight of the ship’s interior. The corridors were darkened, nearly devoid of light save for red dots that lined the walkway. Footsteps in those hallways echoed in a way that still made her skin prickle. She could hear much more than she could see in the dim lighting, holding Deathbringer out to illuminate her path like a massive cyan flashlight. Imperial guardsmen tried to stop her but her sword became a blue blur, striking them down in quick succession with hefty cleaves. Their blood stained her boots, leaving a trail behind her. 

She had run through those halls until the final doors came into sight, and with it, her adrenaline fed into her rage. The doors slid open, inviting fate and death. And then they closed behind her, sealing it.

Flashing orange lights. The feeling of being struck from every angle. Deathbringer’s weight suddenly absent in her grasp. A darkened shadow that crept closer as she sank to the ground. She remembered thinking it hadn’t been fair. The glint of a blade raised over her head and she told herself how this couldn’t be the end. There was no way. Fate wasn’t _that_ cruel. 

The very distinct memory of the blade coming down, orange light reflected off of its steel. And then an ocean of teal, suffocating her, drowning her, with voices making mockery of her suffering behind a veil of glass.

Her arm burned in a line, its bite extending beyond her skin and into her flesh. 

She was not aware she was grabbing at it until Krile interrupted her thoughts. 

“Well then, how about a change of attire before we receive any more company. I can shoo the gentlemen out,” Krile said.

“The ‘shooing’ will be unnecessary,” Estinien replied gruffly and quickly departed with Gaius hot on his heels. Krile gave a small smile at them then shook her head.

“Those two… Hardly an emotion shown between them but make no mistake, they fretted over you just as much as Tataru did,” Krile remarked. “Just in quieter ways.”

Kaida had nothing to say to that but appreciated the levity in Krile’s voice. It was welcome as darker memories settled in. The way they had all looked at her when she had awoken, she felt like a dead woman walking. It made her question what had happened in her absence, but tried to dismiss it. Even if Krile claimed it was bad, it was hard to think it was _that_ bad. 

But there was part of her that feared it truly was.

She was given clothes to wear—a plain white half-tunic with long sleeves and some charcoal-toned tights, ones that clung even to her enfeebled form snugly. Getting dressed felt difficult—more difficult than it ought to. She blamed it on her sleepiness and injuries—a quick dismissal that did not match with how thin she noted her stomach was. Kaida dismissed that too out of fear of what the answer was. Undeniably sinister as the signs were, she refused to read them for what they were, clinging instead to hopeless excuses.

When she had gotten dressed, Krile summoned Gaius and Estinien back into the room. The door had scarcely been shut when it was knocked upon again. Estinien side-stepped to let in an elderly looking elezen, his hair turned snowy white and his eyes carrying a stern gleam that came with old age. He was donned in long black and white robes and carried a conjurer’s staff, which bore green leaves at the top along with an opal gemstone. 

“This is Elmont, the head of our healing team,” Krile said to Kaida. “He helped stabilize your aether when you came here.”

“Then you have my thanks,” Kaida nodded to the elezen.

“As appreciated as it is, that is not why I am here,” Elmont replied, seizing a paper from within his robes and unfurling it. “You sustained massive injuries, both to your torso and head. I would test your vitals and check your memory.”

“Go ahead,” Kaida bade him.

“We have some of your old registration papers here from the adventurer’s guild to verify your information. Do you recall the city-state in which you registered to become part of the adventurer’s guild?” Elmont asked.

“Gridania.”

“Good. What is your name?”

“Kaida… Asagiri.”

“Ah… It says here that you were registered into the guild under a different name. Do you recall it?”

“Kaida Malaguld. My father’s surname.”

“I see. Where is your place of birth?”  
  
“Ao-no-Sato. Just off the coast of the Ruby Sea.”

“Good. What did you register into the adventurer’s guild as?”

“A healer.”

“Excellent. Tell me, who is this?” Elmont said then pointed to Krile.

“Krile Baldesion,” Kaida said. Anxiety bloomed in her chest, feeling as though somehow she was getting every answer wrong despite knowing otherwise.

“And him?” Elmont pointed to Gaius.

A pause and Kaida’s gaze slowly fell on the ex-legatus. 

It was funny how fate had a habit of taking everything and turning it on its head. She had spent her whole life hating Garlemald. Her people had turned them into monsters with their tales of how they came in like a tidal wave, subjugating everything that could not withstand their magitek and military. It was for this reason that her village had been so reclusive, fearing the day that the Garleans would think to look below the water’s surface to where the Raen had established pocket-like villages in the ocean. The kami had sheltered them and in return, the people of Ao-no-Sato had devoted their lives to appeasing their gods lest they turn them back over to the surface, for a fate bound by shackles and slavery.

A life full of a fear and the one responsible for the bulk of it stood in front of her. The dreaded Black Wolf. Former legatus of the Garlean Empire. The one who had almost conquered Eorzea. The one who had unleashed the Ultima Weapon.

And, in more recent days, an unsteady ally.

“Gaius Baelsar,” Kaida answered.

His eyes were steady on her. Silver like an overcast day but sharp as scalpels. Fixated upon her in a way that made her feel self-conscious. No expression. Just a stare. She wondered if he hated her as much as parts of her still hated him. After all, hadn’t their alliance only been born out of convenience? Did he not still cling to those ideals from before.

She cracked a smug smirk at him. It was instinct to do so; to show him that she did not fear him. Even if her parents did think he was a monster. She had beaten a million monsters before. She had even beaten _him_ before.

Gaius did not so much as flinch.

“Do you know what year it is?” Elmont asked her.

Her eyes cut to the elezen, but in her peripherals, she saw Krile tense up.

“Erm… It’s the 5th Year of the Seventh Astral Era…?”

A pause. She could sense the unease—it was so strong it was tangible. The others stirred and she felt her heart slowly sink though it raced in panic. Elmont’s voice was calm as he gave her the answer.

“It is the dusk of the first year in the Eighth Umbral Era.”


	6. Unmend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warrior of Light has awoken and now comes the time of revelations. What HAS happened in the last year?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter but the next one will be a little bit longer and will be posted tomorrow.
> 
> I hope you didn't wanna feel happy today.

“I-impossible…”

That was the first thing that spilled out of her mouth. Gaius was certain from her perspective that it had to seem that way. But she had to have realized more time had passed than just a few weeks. Ten months accounted for the majority of her captivity, but certainly not _all_ of it. He mused over this fact darkly, watching the way that confusion and horror flooded her face. She claimed she remembered nothing and he wagered there was some truth to that. But Gaius suspected being comatose was not entirely to blame. Whatever the case was, there were memories sealed in her mind. Ones that would eventually come to light.

“I know this must be hard to believe, but I can assure you, we would never lie to you about something like this,” Krile said gently.

“A year…” Kaida breathed. A steely glint returned to those emerald eyes, directing them at the lalafell. “What’s happened? You said things were bad.”

“There is… a lot to say,” Krile lowered her gaze. “I-I am sorry, Kaida, I think it would be best if Tataru explained the situation…”

“Oh to hell with that!” Kaida yelled, panic in her voice. “Just tell me what happened!”

“I would first prefer finishing your test, if you so please, Lady Asagiri,” Elmont said brusquely and the Raen shot him a spiteful glare.

“Fine,” Kaida retorted. “Tell me your damn questions already.”

Such a jab would normally rattle someone but the medic remained calm.

“What is the last thing you remember, Lady Asagiri?” Elmont asked in his ever patient but stern tone.

A pause. 

“Ghimlyt.”

A crack in her voice. Small but noticeable. A common listener would chalk up such a thing to an abundance of emotion and leave it at that. Gaius was not convinced. He watched the way her fingers fidgeted. There was something there—boiling anxiety, highlighted by her need to look away from Elmont and his pressing glare. The elezen wrote something down. Gaius hoped Elmont had caught onto the telltale signs as well but he was not convinced the medic had. 

“You do not recall anything from your captivity?” Elmont inquired.

“No,” Kaida said abruptly.

“Nothing of Emperor Zenos?”

“No.”

“Nothing of a… Weapon Project?”

“No.”

“Very well,” Elmont said, bidding the group a polite farewell not long after and slipping out the door.

When the door had closed, Kaida’s fierce glare fell upon Estinien, Gaius, and Krile in a merciless onslaught. She stiffly straightened her posture, leaning back ever so slightly against the wall. Her breathing even doing that was slightly labored, he noted. They had definitely done everything they could to deteriorate her health without killing her. But for what _purpose_ , Gaius wondered. Zenos had been an absent figure since the invasion and he never had an appetite for holding prisoners. He whetted his blade on his victims and carried on like a hurricane. Unstoppable and _feral_.

“Tell me,” Kaida said to Krile, her voice far crisper now than it had been. 

“I-I…” Krile fumbled. “I do not know how to explain…”

He could see the tears already in her eyes. The poor lass. How could one accurately describe the hell they had all faced in the last year? How could one speak and relive those memories and not feel that cruel wave of emotions? It was a tribulation that defined their persons now because there was no way it could not. No way that one could forget, in every waking moment, the hopelessness that they had learned to live with.

“Miss Baldesion,” Gaius said. “Perhaps Lady Asagiri requires food now that she has awoken. I daresay she may be hungry. The Empire is not known for being hospitable towards their enemies.”

“I-I… yes, Commander Baelsar, I agree,” Krile replied with a stutter. “I shall go inspect the kitchens. There ought to be spare rations somewhere.”

She left hurriedly, as if she did not need to be told twice. Kaida watched her go, and then returned her glare towards Estinien and Gaius. No words. Just a scrutinizing look. He tossed a gander at the dragoon and saw the shaggy-haired elezen’s uncertainty. Gaius gave a small, discontented sigh. It should figure that they would force him to bear her the news. 

“The Garlean fleet, led by the Emperor’s flagship, pushed the Eorzean Alliance to the very edges of the Ghimlyt Dark,” Gaius began. “You departed to dispatch the flagship and the Bloody Emperor but neither flagship nor monarch fell. And thus, pressed hard by the Imperial forces, the Eorzean Alliance was forced back to Ala Mhigo. It was then that the Garleans announced your demise. Clearly, a means to demoralize the Alliance forces.”

“And a lie,” Kaida replied, that shaky edge to her words not fading. 

“They presented your claymore as evidence and no one thought to question them. Nevertheless, a second battle was soon fought at Ala Mhigo. A faction of the Limsan forces fled the field but it was not such cowardice that gave the Garleans the upper hand. With their magitek, they were an impossible force to combat. The Eorzeans were outnumbered and before the sun set on the salt-ridden Lochs, Garlean banners flew once more upon the Ala Mhigan walls,” Gaius continued. It had been a sight he had never thought to see again. “After Ala Mhigo, the Alliance was too spent to form a formidable enough defense. The Garleans swept across the countryside and what meager forces remained were soon crushed without second thought.”

“All city-states have been taken by the Empire and the beast tribes have begun running amok with primal summonings,” Estinien spoke up. “The Scions of the Seventh Dawn were last seen fighting against the invasion. We have only made contact with Thancred and that was months ago. No one has seen him since.”

The Raen’s eyes widened.

“N-no one? Not even Alphinaud?” Kaida asked.

“I am afraid he remains missing,” Estinien said. “Along with all the others.”

“And the Alliance leaders?” Kaida demanded.

Gaius sensed Estinien shift uncomfortably. 

“In the battle for Ala Mhigo, General Raubahn fell defending the throne. Despite much protest from the other Alliance leaders, he refused to retreat,” Estinien informed her. “He died for kin and country.”

Her breath quivered. “And Merlwyb?”

“The Admiral was turned on by her own. They killed her and declared their old code of peace and farming dead before the Garleans could even arrive. They brokered a peace with the Garleans when they arrived, letting them take the city so long as they could continue their ravaging elsewhere,” Estinien replied grimly.

“Kami forfend…” Kaida swallowed. No tears. Just a shaking fear, one that possessed every ilm of her. “Kan-E-Senna…?”  
  
“The Twelveswood is overrun by the Elementals, their ire sparked by the Garlean invasion. The Greenwrath has turned the entire forest into a hive of undead,” Estinien continued. “Gridania is only inhabited by ghosts now. The Elder Seedseer likely being among them”

“Gridania fallen…” Kaida whispered. “Lyse?”

“Missing as well. We were hoping to find her with the pockets of the Ala Mhigan Resistance that still yet remain.”

“The Sultana?”

“There has been no word on what became of her. Presumably she was killed when Ul’dah’s wealthiest were bought out by the Garleans.”

“Hien?”

“Alive and in Doma. We have tried to reach out to him for aid but Doma is under siege and we have not heard back from him. Nor do we have the means to go to his aid,” Estinien replied. “A bitter situation indeed.”

The Raen went quiet for a moment, studying the blank white sheets they had lain her in. Her fingers trailed over the fabric but not in a languid, careless way. They coursed over the cloth with frantic undertones. No tears in her eyes yet. Just a paralyzed terror. Gaius was not sure that was better.

“Aymeric…?” she finally asked, voice weak.

Estinien did not reply. He could not, Gaius knew. Living through the invasion meant they carried everything that did not—the memories of loved ones included. The burden was heavy but they bore it quietly. Talking about it never alleviated anything. It just gave harsh reminders about all that was gone. All that had been lost. 

“Ishgard was destroyed,” Gaius answered her calmly. “To spare his people any more suffering, the Lord Commander offered his life to the Imperials. They brokered a deal to let the citizens of Ishgard walk free. He was… subsequently executed on the Steps of Faith.”

A cruel deal, one that Gaius could never understand. But if the Imperials had not proven themselves metal-clad savages before, they had on that bitter, bloody day.

“An exchange that was not honored,” Estinien said, his voice betraying little emotion. “Most of the Ishgardian populace has been rounded up and either conscripted into the Garlean army or enslaved. I imagine Lucia Junius is among them… if not executed for treason.”

“No…” Kaida said, voice scarcely above a whisper. 

“It was Gaius who recovered you from Castrum Nocte a day ago. You have him to thank for your liberation. It… would seem the Garleans had intended to use you for nefarious purposes. What exactly those purposes were, we cannot say. Presently, however, we are safe within a series of ruins in Snowcloak. We were able to re-purpose them for our operations,” Estinien folded his arms over his chest. “Tataru calls it ‘The Stilled Ice’.”

Kaida sat in that bed for a long few moments, deathly silent as she stared through Estinien. A faintness took about her expression, as if the news had somewhat spirited her away to a place that was far away. A place that was safe. A place that was not real, like their current gloomy situation. Gaius watched those weak hands ball fists of cloth into them. She breathed sharply through her mouth, but it was still quaky and heavy with emotion. 

“Do you have any further questions?” Estinien asked her.

“No…” Kaida said airily. “I-I… I do not…”

* * *

Everything was dreamlike still, but Kaida Asagiri could not claim it was the type of dream she wanted to get lost in. Gaius and Estinien finished their explanation of the last year’s events and Kaida could not say she had it in her to believe all of it. Gridania an Elemental-filled ruin? Limsa Lominsa’s Admiral betrayed and murdered by her own? Raubahn dead? And Aymeric… Her stomach twisted into a knot and refused to budge. How noble, how typical of him to have done such a thing. And now he was gone.

When she closed her eyes, she saw him sitting across that table, smiling at her. He had forced the chefs to bring out the finest of dining for their dinner. She had eaten her fill and then more, the fireside merrily crackling. Their chatter had been pleasant and lively, with promises that they simply _had_ to do this again sometime. A promise she had failed to keep time and time again. And now she could never fulfill it.

Her thin arms wrapped around her front in a small self-hug. There was a chronic shiver in her breath, like her lungs were cold and filled with cobwebs. Kaida coughed and rubbed a dribble of saliva away with the back of her hand, eyes dancing in and out of focus. That Tataru was even alive gave Kaida an onze of relief but did little to alleviate the weight of grief pressing down on her chest. 

After returning with tea and biscuits, Krile insisted that she take aether measurements and Kaida was too overwhelmed to decline. The Raen chose to ignore the redness that had invaded the whites of Krile’s eyes. She could only guess what the lalafell had been reminiscing on during her venture to the kitchens.

As Kaida sat at the edge of the bed and nibbled her food, her mind tried to slice through the fog of thoughts clouding her mind. Eorzea had fallen. It had fallen just like she had expected when she had been defeated. She had told that to someone… Someone… _Someone_ …

“Well, your aether is still odd,” Krile informed her. “How are you feeling?”

“S-splendid.”

A boldface lie and they all knew it. Regardless, Kaida mustered up a weak smile. Any sort of sign to show normalcy. Any sort of sign to show strength. She had been away for a year but old habits died hard. Being that symbol of courage and hope was second nature to her. Even when she felt small and defeated. 

The door opened.

“Kaida!” yelled Tataru as she raced over, her violet eyes instantly brimming with tears. Estinien lingered behind, watching the reunion with an amused smile playing about his lips.

They embraced and Kaida, who still felt all of her emotions flitting about faster than she could keep track of them, held her smaller friend for a moment. Feeling Tataru cry as she pressed her face into the base of the Au Ra’s neck awoke a part of the Raen that realized perhaps it was all right to openly mourn what all they had lost. Yet even at that realization, her eyes remained dry, as if they could not process that they were even supposed to be crying. 

“Thank the Twelve…” Tataru whispered. “You’re safe…”

“I am sorry I am so late,” Kaida replied in a low tone.

“Don’t say things like that,” Tataru sniffled. “I am just happy you are here. With us.”

_Where I belong._

“Kaida,” Tataru began, her voice breaking slightly. “T-they’re all gone. The others…”

The way she sounded when she said it made the Raen’s heart break. 

“We will find them,” Kaida whispered back, a promise she was scared she could not keep.

Tataru pulled away from her. The way she looked at the Raen made her think that there was something she wanted to say. But Tataru merely shook her head, dissolving into more tears, and wrapped her small arms around Kaida once more. Hearing the lalafell’s sobs was like a nightmare and all she could do was sit there numbly. 

_This is my fault. These tears. Those deaths. I failed. And this happened._

It had all hinged upon that day one year ago and ever since she had failed, everything had spiraled out of control. 

Her emerald gaze fell upon Gaius, Krile, and Estinien —sad survivors of a tragedy that should have taken them all. At least there would have been less sorrow and suffering that way. She wondered if this was how hope lived on, in broken people who had lost too much—broken people that kept striving on despite the pain. 

How romantic of a thought that was. But unbelievable.

No. Hope was dead, the Warrior of Light realized somberly. They were just going through the motions at this point. Clinging onto something they could never get back. 

“Once you’re better, you’ll help us, won’t you?” Tataru whispered.

Help them do what? Rescue the world she had failed? Muck up more shit and get them all into even worse trouble? Her heart hurt in a way she had never felt before. And her eyes felt a distinct burning sensation—soft yet building. It took her a moment to realize that it was tears. Tears that had come at last. But her body was unfeeling, a callous husk that robotically stroked the back of Tataru’s head. Tender but numb.

“Sure,” Kaida said hollowly. “I’ll do it.”

She thought of Aymeric then, and all those unkept promises. And then she took those words to Tataru and placed them alongside all the lies from before. All the painful memories that tore at her. And then Kaida Asagiri closed the door on them, locking them away forever. It was better this way, she reasoned with herself. A life of fighting had only taught her one thing. Eventually something bigger came. Something better. And she could not afford to fall again.

Her heart could not handle that.

But regardless of her feelings, Kaida Asagiri went through the motions of recovery for the next week. Tataru assigned one of the young conjurers to help her regain her leg strength—a young hyuran man who looked scarcely old enough to be considered an adult. His primary focus was to offer support when the Raen walked, which did little to bolster her confidence. At the slightest sway of her gait, he reached out to steady her, and all Kaida could do was try to swat him away and hide her embarrassment by looking away from him and anyone who stared. 

Her trips were brief at first—just up and down the hallway marking the residential area of the Stilled Ice. Krile made it her goal to make sure the Raen was given meals in her quarters, away from prying eyes. The lalafell spent a fair amount of time there with her, braiding the Au Ra’s hair and talking about pleasant things—things that almost made their new normal felt like the old normal. But then a word would be brought up or a name and Kaida could sense her shorter friend’s unease. 

Although Tataru did not formally ban the other rebels from speaking with the Warrior of Light, Kaida was acutely aware of the berth she was given. Perhaps her stunt with that hyuran maid had caused a stir. Or perhaps they just did not know what to say. Regardless, Kaida involved herself only with familiar faces—Krile’s and Tataru’s being the most prominent guests in her room. It was clear their intentions were to check in on her, and not just to ensure she was physically fine. 

Five days after she had awoken, she sat in a chair in front of a fragmented mirror. Krile worked on her hair, brushing through the ashen brown strands and struggling with a few knots. The tugging against her scalp was unpleasant but the Raen focused her stare into her own reflection. 

Ten months in a coma had done a number on her physique. Her muscle had waned and she was quite thin, though Tataru swore she was looking better each and every day. A flushed hue had made its home back into her complexion, staving off the deathly pale color that had infected her skin. Her eyes were sunken still, cradled by shadows. It was ironic; she had slept all this time but it did not look as though she had rested in eons. Her fringe lay past her brow, getting into her eyes. When Kaida looked at herself, she saw a ghost. A pathetic shell of a woman. She supposed to a bystander, it was heartbreaking. But to her, it was simply what it was. 

She wondered how long it would take before they realized she was broken beyond repair. A hopeless husk that had failed them once and would fail them again.

Kaida looked at her hands, watched the way her thin fingers flexed into a fist. Emptiness had haunted her since her awakening but there was a flicker of something else for a moment. It felt like fire, heating her chest and warming her veins. She basked in it for a moment, letting that feeling seep through her limbs.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light but Kaida thought she saw amber light dance about her curled fist. She blinked and it vanished, and then she told herself it was a hallucination. She was chronically tired these days, it would not have surprised her if she was seeing things. Ruefully, the Raen gave a muffled chuckle, lowering her fist into her lap.

“Hm?” Krile asked her.

“Oh. I didn’t say anything,” Kaida replied evasively, catching the lalafell’s stern look for a moment in her reflection before continuing.

“I know a place where we can get you some hair dye, if you would like,” Krile said. “I know you loved dyeing it green.”

“I’d like that,” the Raen responded after a moment of spaced out thought, mustering up another fake smile.

Krile did not look convinced but she played along with Kaida’s ruse and the Raen was grateful for it. She finished Kaida’s hair, having tied them into twin tails that reached the Au Ra’s waist. When Krile hopped out of her chair, she looked up at Kaida with a small smile.

“Maybe… it will make you feel a bit more like your old self,” Krile said and the Raen felt her stomach twist.

_My old self couldn’t save us from this, Krile. I doubt that’s who we need now._


	7. Carve and Spit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The recovery process for Kaida Asagiri begins and Gaius comes up with a plan on how to make some allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rumor has it if you do the chapter names in order on DRK, you unlock the ability to do 1 million dps. Trust me. I'm a Triple Legend.
> 
> (Do not actually do this, I beg of you.)
> 
> Anyways, a longer chapter, as promised, with tension because we can't get enough of that in this house.

The end of the second week saw Kaida finally strong enough to venture from Stilled Ice’s resident hall without aid, moving to the higher reaches where rebellion troops were being trained under the pale azure ceilings that made up Snowcloak’s roof. The chill was greater in the higher levels, and Krile made sure the Raen was outfitted with a snug coat before they both ascended.

It was hard to be unimpressed by the Stilled Ice the more Kaida traversed its winding pathways. There was a home-ness to the residential hall, despite the permafrost that chilled the stone walls. But beyond that, it was an ice cavern that was reinforced meagerly with little comforts added. Sconces lined the wintery walls, filled with warm, fire-aspected crystals that kept the worst of the cold at bay. But Kaida still found herself tucking her arms into her sleeves for warmth.

“I never thought this place would be home,” the Raen commented as they walked through a tunnel carved from the blue-tinted ice. It was starkly different than their cozy Rising Stones. Or the warm Ruby Sea for that matter. 

“We are fortunate to have some of Lady Iceheart’s former members among our ranks. One of them suggested this place,” Krile replied as they stepped up some stone stairs that had been embedded into the ice. “Ah, here’s the top floor. I’m sure you are aware that our troops are led by Gaius Baelsar. He works closely with Estinien these days. When Thancred went missing, Estinien took the mantle of our Spymaster and now manages our intelligence. A role that is strangely fitting for him, I think. I help Tataru with certain arcane matters but also float between the departments. Master Elmont manages our medics and Nero manages our magitek development… you… you remember Nero, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” Kaida remarked with a wry smirk and Krile gave a laugh.

The training grounds sprawled shallowly under the surface of the glacier, some of the ice so thin that sunlight poured through it. From what Kaida could see, the grounds themselves were a series of large rooms connected by small thresholds. A few striking dummies were set out, where soldiers were practicing. There were not many of them, Kaida noted as they entered the grounds. They carried gear that looked pilfered and repurposed—old Garlean gear that had been reshaped for Eorzean natives. To stave off the cold, they had been given scarves—white as snow with the sigil of a crimson rose. At first, Kaida thought it was the symbol of House Haillernarte but as she drew closer, she realized it had been stylized in a different fashion, with a winding, thorned vine that extended from the rose’s stem.

_A wild rose._

All eyes fell on her at once and she felt her skin crawl with nerves. The training slowed to a stop as they watched her and Krile wander the rim of the grounds. Kaida wished her friend was a little taller so she could hide behind her and feel a bit safer.

Yet thankfully as some of the murmurs were beginning to circulate amongst the rebel soldiers, everyone’s attention directed towards the approach of Gaius Baelsar. A single glance towards the idling soldiers sent them scurrying back to their training regimens. His pale eyes cut back to Krile and Kaida upon his approach, each stride layered with a cold confidence.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked in his deep voice. Crisp and to the point.

“Oh, I was simply showing Kaida around the Stilled Ice,” Krile said. “We did not mean to interrupt. Apologies, Commander!”

“There is no need for that,” Gaius replied, gaze skirting to Kaida’s. There was a flickering quiet that followed. She was not sure how to parse that look but kept her apathetic shield raised. He continued, “Full glad am I that you have recovered enough strength to make such ventures from your quarters.”

“I understand I have you to thank for my rescue,” Kaida said to the ex-legatus. Despite how much she could wish she could go to sleep and wake up to a better world, she supposed that this cruel reality was better than being used for sinister purposes.

“I merely did what was necessary,” Gaius responded politely.

“Well, what was necessary saved my life. Thank you,” Kaida replied.

“You would have done the same,” Gaius said and Kaida permitted herself a tiny smirk.

“I would have endeavored it but I’m afraid your size may have made it difficult for me to carry you,” Kaida remarked and Gaius snorted softly.

“I would have appreciated it regardless, Lady Asagiri,” came his amused reply and he nodded to Krile. “Explore the grounds as you see fit. I am afraid I cannot stay, however. Lady Tataru has summoned me for a meeting.”

“Ah. Well, I hope all goes well,” Krile replied. “We shan’t be here long, I think. I don’t want to tire her out.”

Kaida frowned at her. “We’ve barely gotten started. It’ll take more than that to get me to go back to my room quietly.”

Gaius departed from the grounds not long after and though the soldiers spared the lalafell and Raen duo a few strange glances, they continued about their tour undisturbed. By the time they reached the exit to the icy grounds, Kaida did feel weariness about her legs. She looked back at the soldiers training, her palm remembering the feel of her claymore’s hilt within it. The absence of her blade felt like the absence of an old friend—another missing figure in her life. Kaida gave a sigh, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

Seeing the soldiers fight made her want to fight, and that was a feeling she was hell-bent on snuffing out. But it was also a feeling she could not deny. Not to the deeper parts of herself.

“Well, it’s almost lunch time,” Krile said merrily to her. “I think the chef is preparing aldgoat today. Shall we take a look?”

“Of course,” Kaida replied and the two set off to the kitchens.

* * *

She was still on his mind as he made his way to the meeting room. Seeing her walk up the ice-bound steps to the training grounds had put a strange lightness in his chest. It truly felt as though where she walked, miracles blossomed, defying all odds. He supposed that was what made her the champion of Eorzea. The ability to waltz through the thickest, fieriest parts of hell and come out only singed. She would recover physically soon enough, he knew. But he had not missed the latent despair in her eyes.

Tataru and Estinien were already within the room when he arrived, gathered around one end of a long table. The door closed behind him, silencing the faint noises of people passing by in the hallways. He took his seat across from Estinien with Tataru at the head of the table to his left. Tataru had set out some warm tea and cookies for them and Gaius did his best to hide a tiny smirk at the silver platter in front of him. For their shabby conditions, at least the meetings here were far more bearable than the ones in Garlemald.

“My intelligence reports have come in,” Estinien informed both of them. “Castrum Nocte has finally eased its patrols. I think it is safe to assume they think the Warrior of Light long fled from Coerthas.”

“Well, that’s good,” Tataru said, pouring Gaius some tea. He took his cup gratefully and the Dunesfolk continued, “It’s been two weeks. Perhaps it is time to resume pilfering from the local Imperial outposts? If we’re to get any more members, we will need more armor to work with.”

“I can see to the attaining of metals,” Gaius said. “If the patrols have lessened, a midnight excursion to the Dragonhead Outpost ought to provide no trouble for a small squadron.”

“I shall leave it to you then, Commander!” Tataru exclaimed.

“Temper your expectations on what we may find. These lands hold few outposts we can steal from and we carry even fewer hands with the skills to shape the metals in the way we need. Were that we were not holed up in the highlands. I am certain resources are far more aplenty to the south,” Gaius remarked with a wistful sip of his tea.

“Mayhaps our potential brethren in the Shroud could help…?” Tataru asked.

“The faction at the Black Shroud still refuses to ally with us,” Estinien said bitterly. “But we have more information on them. It would seem that they carry some means to avoid the Greenwrath, though none of my subordinates were able to ascertain the means itself.”

“Could it be that the Elder Seedseer is leading them?” Tataru asked.

“A welcome thought but I fear our intelligence points indicates something different. We do have a name but I cannot say that I am familiar with it,” Estinien shook his head. “Almeria… no surname given, unfortunately. She is declared their matron and also their champion.”

“I can’t say I’ve heard of her,” Tataru replied.

“It is rumored she is a woman with an appetite for power and an avid student of the arcane,” Estinien continued. “But that is all I know of her. I know far more about her forces. They are at least thrice our number and growing. Forging an alliance with them would bolster our chances of success against the Garleans. Of this I have no doubt.”

“Then we must needs provide a reason for this Almeria to stop ignoring our messengers,” Gaius said. “A measured show of force should suffice, if we play our cards correctly.”

“Ah, _legatus_ , perhaps you forget, but our friends to the south are easily frightened. Do you truly mean to parade our forces upon their doorstep?” Estinien scoffed.

“No. The show of force will have to be directed towards something that will both intrigue and impress their leader,” Gaius shook his head. 

“You have an idea,” Estinien observed.

“Aye. To the south of the Amdapori ruins in which these enigmatic rebels dwell is Thanalan, home to the Amalj’aa. We received intelligence weeks ago that they have pilfered a selection of crystals from the Garlean caravans. They surely mean to summon their eikon,” Gaius explained. “An act we can _expedite_ if needed. All in time for one of our own to arrive and slay the damnable creature.”

“Fighting a primal?” Tataru exclaimed. “Gaius, we don’t have the forces for such a thing. Not even remotely! And we run the risk of tempering…”

“We need no force,” Gaius said simply. “We have Eorzea’s greatest eikon slayer within our ranks. A courtesy detachment to see her to the battlefield unharmed is all that will be necessary and I am more than glad to spearhead that.”

“You want Kaida to fight _Ifrit_?!” Tataru sputtered. “But… she’s still recovering!”

“I dare not suggest something in which I believe impossible. Eorzea’s Little Dragon was fearsome even in her early days of adventuring—this I know all too well,” Gaius replied. “I agree she is ill-prepared at this very moment and yet I believe she can be prepared within the span of a few weeks. Given rest and training, of course.”

“Training…” Tataru mused, rubbing her chin.

“At the battle of Ala Mhigo, the Eorzean Alliance forces were despondent over the loss of the Warrior of Light. If it is shown and proved that she yet lives, then we will suffer no picky faction leaders. They will come in droves and flock to Lady Asagiri as peddlers to an oasis in the midst of endless dunes,” Gaius said carefully. “Despite her failure at the Ghimlyt Dark, she was a beacon of hope for all Eorzeans for a time. A rallying cry. And if they do not come to swear allegiance to her, they will come because they are intrigued by her _miraculous_ resurrection. And that will call the Empire into question, swaying any fringe supporters to our cause.”

“Mm,” Estinien thoughtfully massaged his forehead. “I cannot deny that there is sound sense in Gaius’s plan.”

“And you really think she could be ready in a few weeks?” Tataru asked, her doubt evident in her tone.

“I do,” Gaius said confidently. “A warrior of her caliber never forgets battle, Lady Tataru. She may not be practiced and she may be frail, but she will lift her sword and _remember_. And with training to hone her skills back to where they once were, I have full confidence this will work.”

“This plan will tip our hand to the Empire,” Estinien pointed out. “If they hear what has happened, they will no doubt come searching for the Warrior of Light, likely to continue what sinister machinations they had planned for her.”

“We will not allow them to seize her,” Gaius said simply.

“And do you intend to spearhead that as well?” Estinien asked.

“Yes,” Gaius replied at once.

“Hmm, I think Gaius’s plan has more than enough merit. It will also serve to intrigue the Syndicate, possibly enough to garner us allies. And if we can manage that, we can certainly get more funds,” Tataru remarked. “Give me time to think this over. And I should like to speak with Kaida about it as well. She should get some say in the plan.”

“Of course,” Gaius said.

The meeting was soon adjourned and Gaius returned to his station at the training grounds. He began musing over who he would pick for his trip to Dragonhead, his sharp eyes coursing over some of the more skilled soldiers. It would have to be a small enough brigade so that they would not be noticed but large enough to carry the needed supplies back to Snowcloak. He sighed, realizing this meant trying to barter with Nero for a vehicle to whisk them away to their destination. And bartering with Nero was always a pain.

It did not take Gaius long to mentally select his squadron. There was Theodeaux Champlain, a captain amid their meager forces—an expert spearsman and the one who had led their fragmented forces to Snowcloak. N’hyako Tia was also selected, a boisterous axe-wielding militiaman and N’anrih’s younger brother. After him came Evelyn Sunstrike, a promising young soldier from Gridania, and then Nevaeh Skies, an Ala Mhigan native that had enrolled in the arcanist guild before the invasion. 

He made a note to inform them of their impending mission by the end of the day. 

“A message for you, Commander,” came a voice to his right and he saw a youthful looking hyuran man approach. “Lady Tataru would like to speak with you. She says to meet her in the same room as earlier today.”

Gaius did not hide his frown but he nodded. “Very well.”

_It is a miracle I get anything done with all the times in which I am summoned._

He made his way back to the meeting room, musing darkly over why Tataru was insistent on speaking with him so soon after their last meeting. The Black Wolf’s irritation showed in the way he opened the door, forcing it open with a swing. He paused at the sight inside, pale eyes skirting between where Tataru was sitting and where Kaida was sitting where he had been sitting less than an hour ago.

“Ah! You’re here. So sorry to interrupt your day again,” Tataru began jovially. “I was just going over everything with Kaida and she has agreed to fight Ifrit as soon she is able to.”

He looked at her and could plainly see the Raen looked particularly uninterested in the concept.

“Good,” Gaius said awkwardly. “When I have returned from Dragonhead, I can begin to draft a more detailed plan for our upcoming battle against the eikon.”

“Oh that’s all good and all,” Tataru waved her hand dismissively. “But I have been doing some thinking and as much as I know Kaida will recover, I am concerned that she is unprepared for Ifrit.”

“What?” Kaida blinked, looking bewilderedly at the lalafell.

“Listen, Kaida. It’s been a year since you have last fought a battle,” Tataru declared, standing in her chair and looking the Raen over. “Please do not take this the wrong way, but you have been injured and you are unhealthy. Even I can tell you are going to need practice.”

“Meaning…?” Kaida asked apprehensively.

Gaius’s eyes danced between the two, a sinking feeling in his stomach that he knew where this was going.

“I have decided that a regular sparring partner may help you get back into shape,” Tataru said firmly. “And what a better way to train than to train against someone whom you have fought in the past? Someone with an impressive skillset and military genius?”

Yes. Yes, this had gone exactly where he had predicted it would. And the strange swirl of emotions made it hard to discern if he was pleased or mortified at what this meant. He kept that vortex of uncertainty lidded, evenly staring at Tataru as if he had just been given news of the weather.

“What—” Kaida began, tendrils of outrage lining her voice.

“Gaius will be overseeing your training,” Tataru cut her off.

The Raen’s vivid gaze fell on him, her shock and unease evident. Her mouth opened, a vague sneer about it indicating a protest. But just as he braced himself for a disagreement, Kaida lowered her head, shutting her mouth with a brisk exhale from her nostrils. Her uncertainty was valid, he mused. The last time they had fought was at the Praetorium and he was certain this would revive old memories. As bitter as he was at that thought, he understood the need for it. Tataru was right; Kaida was a fragment of her former strength. If he had to grit his teeth and bear old wounds being reopened with the clash of their swords, then he would do so. For the sake of the rebellion, the future.

“Understood,” Gaius said to Tataru. “I would be honored to help Lady Asagiri re-polish her skills.”

“Right…” Kaida’s head bobbed up and down. The corner of her mouth gradually drew into a smirk, looking to him with those sad eyes that tried to seem fierce. “I’m sure I will be back to beating you to a pulp before long, Commander.”

“I look forward to it,” Gaius replied steadily. 

“Excellent!” Tataru exclaimed. “Well, that will be all. Feel free to sort out your schedules amongst yourselves.”

“Mine is relatively free,” Kaida remarked.

“The morrow, then,” Gaius said. “In the morning, if you please. My evening is quite occupied, unfortunately.”

“Sure,” Kaida shrugged. “Three bells before noon?”

“That should suffice.”

And then, once more, the Black Wolf was turned loose to fulfill his other duties. 

* * *

To say she was dreading their impending sparring practice was an understatement but old habits made her get up anyways that morning. She tied her hair back into twin tails as Krile had done in days past, desperate to not meet her own gaze. As long as she did not look at her own eyes, she felt as though she could ignore the pitiable state she was in. She could remember her image as it had been before—bold with that sparkle and that smile. She could forget all that had happened.

But as she did her eyeliner, she caught her own eye and felt herself give pause. 

“What in the seven hells am I doing?” Kaida questioned herself, letting her hands drop to her lap as reality set about its weighty mantle across her shoulders.

Agreeing to fight Ifrit was a mistake if she had ever seen one but she was in the mindset to be cruel to herself, so she had accepted it when Tataru had suggested it. It had brought a smile to her friend’s face and that had done her heart some good. But now that she was faced with all that would have to happen in order to achieve that strength once more, Kaida felt her desire to fight slip away. It was replaced by a desire to run, though her legs did not seem inclined to follow that instinct either. With a sigh, she rested her forehead on the stony slate that made up her sink, letting its chill comfort her.

At this point, it was either show up to the training grounds or have Gaius come looking for her, and the latter thought made her cheeks flush with embarrassment. No, she had told Tataru she would help, and so she would at least… somewhat try. Yes. That sounded good. A half-assed effort was better than none. So with that grim thought in mind, Kaida finished getting ready and made her way to their designated meeting place—the upper floors of the Stilled Ice.

The training ground was cold and devoid of life when she crested the steps. Each patter of her boots against the snow-fluffed ice echoed throughout the hollowed caverns. Her green eyes scanned the front sparring room and saw no one. 

“I’m here,” Kaida announced herself, resting her hands on her hips and glancing about the empty room. 

“The next room over.”

A reply that was half-shouted, its volume magnified by the cold walls. Kaida wandered towards its source, finding the solemn commander inside the next training area. A few dummies had been set out here as well, shoddily made with missing limbs. Gaius watched her enter and closed the door behind her, flicking the lock. The noise was loud and sent a spike of uncertainty in her chest.

_Why would he lock the door?_

Without caring to elaborate on the gesture, Gaius grabbed two practice swords from the rack and handed one to her, not even glancing her way. She took it into her hands, the weight of it strangely heavier than she was anticipating. Kaida was careful to not drop it but the tip threatened to jab the ice-ridden stone that made up their flooring. She hoped her newfound sparring partner did not notice. 

“You locked the door on the way in,” the Raen pointed out as Gaius tested his practice sword with a few swings.  
  
“I did,” he responded calmly. “I thought it best if we were undisturbed.”

“F-fair enough,” Kaida replied.

“… You thought I meant ill-will towards you,” Gaius said.

“I-I didn’t say that,” Kaida protested.

“You did not,” Gaius agreed. “Lady Asagiri, if I had wanted you to suffer, I would have left you naked in the Coerthan snow to freeze to death.”

Warmth infiltrated her cheeks, turning her skin a deep scarlet beneath her whitened scales.

“You do _not_ have to say it like that,” Kaida mumbled. “It is Kaida, by the way. You do not have to be so formal.”

“If that is your wish,” Gaius replied.  
  
Her emerald gaze skirted back to her sword, held firmly in both hands. It was too small to be treated as a claymore but holding the hilt in two hands felt right. She tested lifting the blade, feeling its weight try to pull her down. Her legs splayed in a fighting stance but she could feel her arms struggling to manage the practice sword’s weight. She told herself not to worry too hard about it; after all, it had been some time since she had swung a blade around. A few seconds into practice and it would come back.

“Well, I suppose we should get started,” Kaida said to him and the commander quirked a brow at her.

“First, the dummy,” Gaius gestured towards it. “A few swings against it for a warm up.”

“Hitting a dummy is not going to help me remember how to fight,” Kaida protested.

“Well, it will certainly not _hurt_ in that aspect,” Gaius retorted. “But, if you are insistent, we can start in the proverbial deep end of the pool.”

“Good,” Kaida said, pointing her practice sword at him. “Then let’s dance.”

The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. Her eyes widened slightly, echoes of a time long past ringing in that quiet, frozen training ground. The soft mechanical grinding of the magitek lift’s cogs as they had descended into the Praetorium that fateful day were a sound she could still recall. Fell lights had illuminated the elevator’s rooted path, the sound of staff against blade echoing into the darkest depths of that steel fortress. Magic versus magitek. But that had been when the world was a far different place. And she had been a much different person. And he… Well. According to everyone around her, he had been a different person then too.

Gaius smiled at her wryly. No comment. He merely pointed his training sword at her. It was better this way, Kaida mused.

She struck first, her legs remembering how to charge her opponent down. The first strike was overhead—parried easily. The second came swinging around from below and to the left—another blocked with ease. She pivoted, turned, and went for a jab. He side-stepped and swung, the fleeting sight of the practice sword aimed at her head enough to send a bone-chilling fear through her body.

Her instinct was to duck and she followed it nearly perfectly, the tip of her already chipped horn catching the practice sword. The world rang loudly in her head like warning bells, clamoring at her to steady herself, to look for him, to _fight_. She stumbled a few steps back, shaking herself into focus in time to see him follow through with a stab towards her chest. The Raen rolled her shoulder back, letting it pass by and feeling the limitations of her body in sharp pains. She breathed it out, leaning into that agony as she went for a strike. Another parry and then it was his turn, swinging a standard horizontal slash. Kaida’s right arm went up to block it with her sword, their fake blades colliding in an awful clash. They struggled against each other for a fleeting moment, her strength quickly failing against his. As the tip of her sword dug into the permafrost, the dulled tip of his blade found just under her chin. 

Fear pierced her heart like an arrow, her eyes crawling up the practice sword to his emotionless expression. His cold eyes that seemed only colder in the blue-hued training grounds. She swallowed, a strange warmth about her nape that spread its hand to her face. Her gaze flitted back to the sword. It was… hard to look at him. For a reason she could not identify.

“Again,” was all he said and she swallowed down her embarrassment, nodding stiffly. Kaida wrested the blade from the ground and they poised for the next round.

That warmth seeped from her face to her arms, and in the time it took to get there, she felt her rage broil over like a pot who had sat too long over a fire. Gaius was first to strike and Kaida’s sword took the brunt of it before swinging for his midsection. She threw her weight behind it, both hands enveloping the sword’s handle. He evaded and she cursed him silently. The next strike came and she parried it. The force from the blow made her arms feel weak but Kaida endeavored to persevere through it.

Their blades clashed a few more times before the Raen had pushed the Garlean back enough that she felt satisfied to charge in. She went in with more weight thrown behind her next strike, three quick paces closing the gap between them. It was on the fourth pace that she realized that something was wrong.

The world spun on a vertigo-driven carousel. As the practice sword fell from her hands, she felt bits of her arm burn. Her breath caught in her throat as her body rocked forward, the ground rushing up in a bid to meet her but stopping just shy. One of her hands reached out to brush the black stonework, trying to find stability in the waking world. Her vision waved like the ocean, so disorienting that the Raen’s eyes closed to seek sanctuary from its nauseating dance. Instead however, she found the darkness of her own eyelids stifling. Recollections of being adrift in something that felt like water brimmed to life—so vivid that her skin felt the thick ooze’s caress.

Her nails reached out in a desperate, clawing flail, eventually latching onto something that felt like fabric and holding onto it for dear life. It took a few seconds to realize that it was his arm she had caught. His arm snaked around her torso and held her up just high enough to protect her from hitting the ground. 

As she gathered her feet below her, she looked up at him—knowing that it was for the best that she did not. Knowing that she should have just carried on like nothing was wrong. His face was placid, expressionless. Gaius helped her to her feet without saying anything, eyes gleaming down at her in a way that felt penetrating. She swallowed down a lump of saliva and nerves again.

_Do you understand yet? You have better chances of making it through Zenos than I do at this point. I’m spent. I’m done._

Her gaze fell.

_I’m not the person you think I am. Not anymore._

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

“No,” she replied numbly.

“Do not lie to—”

“I said no.”

“… Very well. Rest for a few moments. Then go strike the dummy.”

Kaida winced. That felt like a punishment. “I’m fine, really.”

“Then I trust the striking dummy will prove no challenge to you,” Gaius retorted and walked over to gather her sword off the ground. The Raen had no counter to his statement.

“Don’t tell Tataru. She’ll worry,” Kaida said.

“She worries often, I have noticed over this long year,” Gaius remarked, walking over to her and handing her the practice sword. “Fear not. I intend to keep these sessions private.”

“Thank you.”

She took a seat on a slab of stone on the side of the training ground, resting the practice sword next to her. Pride still bruised, she sighed, waiting until her sparring partner’s back was turned to roll up her sleeve and glance at her arm. Strange—no marking was there but every so often, it burned like wildfire. The searing pain was too strong to ignore… but why? Why did it hurt so bad when there was no scar? Her exhale was fringed with frustration. A mystery from her days in Garlean hands, no doubt. One she hoped would go away sooner rather than later.

As she rolled down her sleeve, Kaida’s mind drifted Gaius once more. Where he had caught her prickled still beneath her coat. She hastily dismissed it as part of her embarrassment for being so pathetic during their sparring matches. Her gaze followed him to where he was looking over his practice sword and giving it a few more test swings and grumbling under his breath. That he—Gaius Baelsar, the infamous Black Wolf who had conquered nation after nation, the face of Imperialism, the one who had brought Eorzea to its knees-- had been named her instructor was surely the kami mocking her. But… she did not deny there was a bit of her that was laughing along with them. 


	8. Provoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaius leads a small team to Dragonhead Outpost to steal supplies from the Garleans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something entirely different but not really.
> 
> If you have a tumblr and like this fic, give me a follow at little-dragon-heart.tumblr.com! I posted some behind-the-scenes stuff for a few side characters in this chapter and I might be doing more stuff like that later on.

“Nero, I would like to borrow one of your speeders,” Gaius Baelsar said to announce his presence as he walked into the Magitek Chief’s makeshift office.

Nero, who had been lounging quite extravagantly with his feet propped onto his desk, lowered the papers he had been reading to glance up at the ex-legatus. There was a devious glint about his violet-blue irises, a smug tugging at his thin, pursed lips. He straightened his posture, set aside his papers, and folded his hands atop his desk.

“Why Gaius, how delightful it is to see you this afternoon,” Nero said in that tone that made Gaius acutely aware that he should brace himself for an onslaught of his former subordinate’s snide commentary. “What has brought _His Excellency_ to my humble office?”

“A speeder,” Gaius repeated blandly.

“A speeder,” Nero echoed, that sly smile widening. “I may have one or two to spare. What is the occasion?”

“Lady Tataru has requested a supply run. A brief venture to Dragonhead and back,” Gaius said curtly. “I am taking a small squadron. The only thing I request is that its tank is full when we leave at dusk.”  
  
“Ahh,” Nero nodded. “And I trust this speeder will be returned in the condition it departed from my hanger?”

Gaius’s gaze narrowed. “I know not what you are insinuating, Nero.”

“Oh, it’s just that the last time you took one of my speeders, you brought it back with a few extra… how to put it… artistic liberties done to its structure. Namely in the form of dents and bullet holes,” Nero retorted. “Took me nearly a week to patch all of the repairs. And I cannot spare the time again. Or, rather, _Wedge_ cannot. And speaking of Wedge…”

Gaius caught a glimpse of the lalafell passing by Nero’s office. Unfortunate timing, mused the commander. Nero snapped his fingers at the flighty engineer, calling out for him.

“Wedge! Ready a speeder for our dear commander, would you? You have ‘til sundown,” Nero said cheerily.

Wedge sighed, his short frame sinking with despair as he did. Despite the despondent expression on his face, he tossed a lazy salute. “Aye… Will do!” And then set about his work quickly.

“It is most appreciated,” Gaius said to Nero, who flashed him another grin as he leaned back.

“ ‘Tis only my job, to ensure all magitek matters are squared away for our missions. As few and far in-between as they have been as of late,” Nero remarked. “I do hear that may be changing. And likely for the better. Care to shed any insight on that, Commander?”

“I need not explain that the Warrior of Light has returned—you saw her. Have seen her,” Gaius replied evasively.

“Have seen but not yet spoken to. Not yet, at the least, my duties have kept me well out of trouble,” Nero shrugged. “How does she fare?”

“Well enough,” Gaius lied. “Her strength will return before long and I daresay you will find yourself even busier than you are now.”

“Is that so?” Nero asked. “Then I suppose I should hope the Garlean army has been replaced with quivering hyuran maids in our absence. From what I hear, that is all she is able to strike fear in.”

“And who spoke of that?” Gaius’s brow furrowed.

“Enough people come chattering through here that I’m sure I know of every onze of gossip within these walls. You should hear what they have to say about some of our cooking staff,” Nero retorted, waving his hand dismissively. “But I will admit, I was intrigued by what _you_ would say about the matter. If memory serves, you spoke highly of her prowess even when she did seek to bloody a blade in both of our throats. And even higher still after she managed to defeat us both.”

“That is true,” Gaius answered evenly. “And I will not deny what was done to her has taken its toll on her health. It was… unlike anything I had seen before.”

“I am morbidly curious as to what dastardly plans Circe is up to,” Nero said. “She always had a taste for the macabre. But if you seem to think the Warrior of Light will recover and there is yet hope, then I will place my trust in your _almost_ -infallible judgment. It has only led us astray the one time. A severe time, that. But just the once all the same.”

Gaius snorted. “You need not remind me, Nero. Besides, where else would you go? It’s not as though there are many safe havens left for Garlean traitors.”

“I hear Radz-at-Han is lovely this time of the year,” Nero remarked lightly.

That got a small smirk out of the commander. “I shall keep that in mind once this sordid business with the Empire is dealt with.”

An incredibly hopeful thought but that was how they had to talk. With hope. Not mentioning the looming odds or how one small slip up could see them all headed for an execution chamber. Or worse, one of Circe’s laboratories.

“ _The_ Gaius Baelsar, taking a vacation? Perish the thought,” Nero snickered.

He departed Nero’s office shortly thereafter, stepping through the hanger where the engineers hurried about with their endless tasks. Watching them toil over various magitek vehicles (vehicles that had been “borrowed” from the local Garlean settlements without the intention of returning them) made Gaius long for simpler times, when he was younger and the world was more straightforward. Yet he supposed halcyon days like that had only existed under the veil of ignorance. There had always been cogs turning, evil brooding, and convolution. He had just existed under the folly of youth, believing his sword to be the answer.

Sundown came soon enough and he gathered his small squadron in the hanger. Theodeaux, N’hyako, Evelyn, and Nevaeh had all thankfully agreed to the mission and were outfitted in lightweight, black-tinted armor under fur-rimmed coats. Gaius’s own gear was similar—reforged light armor from scraps they had pilfered from the Garleans and a coat to keep the cold at bay. Heirsbane stood out against it like a sore thumb but he cared not that it would make him identifiable. The Empire already knew of his treason and his spite. 

There was little chatter between them as they neared the vehicle Wedge had readied them. It was another silver-toned slipper, same as the one they had used to bring Kaida back to the Stilled Ice two weeks ago. A few modifications had been done to it to make it not stand out against the winter-white backdrop of the Coerthan wilderness. A single long-ranged cannon sat on its back, to be operated by one unlucky fool during combat who did not get the privilege of sitting in the warmer seats of the cockpit.

“Hey Commander… We’re not… going to have to use that, are we?” N’hyako asked, his slit eyes focused on the cannon and blonde tail twitching with curiosity.

“Only if things go horribly awry,” Gaius reassured him in a bland voice.

“I’m a bad shot for what it’s worth. That’s why I use an axe,” the miqo’te added quickly and the Garlean smirked wryly. He almost thanked the miqo’te for volunteering by protesting but he was interrupted quickly by Wedge approaching.

“We’ll leave someone on watch to open the gate for you,” Wedge informed him with a salute. “M-make sure you snag something good, s-sir!”

“I will do my best,” Gaius replied evenly as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “If we are not back within three bells, assume the worst.”

“Roger that!” Wedge exclaimed.

Once they had climbed in, the hanger door opened, revealing a star-ridden night ahead of them. Clear skies. If he were a man that believed in omens, he might have thought it a serendipitous night for a raid. His hand slipped down to one of the thrusters and they were soon off into the evening chill with nothing but a gentle purr of magitek engines to interrupt the silence.

The slipper coursed expertly over the sparkling snow, the bottom of its hull skimming just inches above the ground. Gaius wove them through the trees, the light of the crescent moon overhead. Strange how this land was countless leagues from his birthplace all these years later but it rang with the familiarity of home. Perhaps it was that cold chill that reminded him of Garlean winters. The youths, young and bright, looking up at darkened skies as the clouds poured down snowfall, trying to catch flakes on their tongues. And all around them, the cityscape illuminated like yellow-tinted stars, nestled in a country that he had once thought would lead the world to a better future.

He pushed those nostalgic thoughts aside, musing at how his inner dialogue made him sound old. And then, he reasoned, he perhaps _was_ old. 

“ ‘Tis a curse that this eve be so quiet,” Theodeaux remarked in a low, sullen tone.

“Quiet you,” Nevaeh grumbled. “I’ll hear of no curses as we near enemy territory.”

Dragonhead Outpost was found where the place known as Camp Dragonhead had once sat, nestled amid gray stone walls and battered by the unforgiving elements. Garlean military had stormed the camp in the days before Ishgard fell and their influence was notable. The walls had been reinforced with black steel and searchlights had been posted atop each wall. Crimson warning lights marked the tips of its walls, making it stand out against the Coerthan landscape like a sore thumb. 

The slipper was parked behind a rocky outcrop that Gaius was certain would not trip any alarums. Since taking over most of the known world, the Garleans had a tendency to outfit their outposts with scanners that would flag vehicle ID numbers. Given that theirs had none, Gaius was certain that the alarum would not take kindly to them drawing too close. Unfortunately, leaving the slipper behind meant they could only take what they could carry, and Gaius doubted it would be enough to fully satisfy what they would need. But any effort was better than none, so without much ceremony, he plopped empty brown sacks into each of their laps. Like bandits in the night would they storm the outpost and like bandits they would hopefully leave.

_Grand legatus to common thief. Somewhere, His Majesty Solus stirs in his grave... I suppose Lady Asagiri put an end to him as well._

“Do not stray,” Gaius said to them, pale gaze fixated on N’hyako. “We move as one unit. Silent. If they should discover us, you will make it your priority to flee.”

“And… if we get captured?” N’hyako asked.

"We don’t,” Gaius said simply and the miqo’te’s ears went back.

Stealing their way to the outpost was the inevitable next step. Searchlights reigned over the yalms surrounding the outpost, sweeping slowly over the frosted terrain. Dodging being spotted was no easy feat but there was a methodology that the Black Wolf had come up with over the last year. The searchlights focused on the skies ahead and the forked roads, covering the bulk of the area near the dreaded Witchdrop. But the lights did not swivel over the entirety of the north of Dragonhead. They stopped midway through a frozen pond that rested at its walls, and more importantly, just shy of where the sewage pipe lay.

A wide margin around the outpost was made with the commander at the front, his pale eyes scarcely ever leaving the outpost in case someone managed to spy them. Their scanners were mostly focused on magitek for the purpose of spotting insurrectionists. They had given up on body heat imaging long ago, he knew. There was too much fauna in Coerthas for any tech like that to be worthwhile. So the Empire had left guards to periodically look out for any trespassers via the old fashion way—using their eyes. But fortunately, the guards they had designated to this post were often negligent in their abilities, too off-put by the thought of dragons swooping in to devour them or too chilled by the cold to want to stay out for too long. 

Once the frozen pond had been dodged around and the pipe was in view, he knew that they were in the clear. No alarums rang out and the night remained its calm, quiet self. Gaius pulled out a maintenance keycard from his pocket—a finding from a mission a month ago—and slid it on a reader at the pipe’s side. The grate slid open and he stepped inside with a sharp inhale. Crisp Coerthan air smelled nice; the shit of his former colleagues less so. At least on that particular evening, the grossness only went up to the ankle of his boot.

“Ew,” N’hyako muttered as his boots thudded into the muck behind Gaius, a disdainful grunt emanating from Theodeaux.

The pipe fed its way through the outpost, winding its way like a metallic serpent with the occasional grate to grant them fresh air and a glimpse of what was happening outside. A bonfire was lit in the central square of the meager fort, the marriage of Garlean architecture and Ishgardian decorating Dragonhead’s interior. Where an aetheryte once sat was a small pillar, its sole purpose to hold aloft a device that would broadcast any updated orders to the soldiers that now resided there.

Eventually their destination came into sight, the pipe passing by a restroom that Gaius knew from experience had to lead to their storage facility. The restroom came into sight through another grate, which he removed quietly before picking himself out of grime and unmentionable other liquids. Two steps and he realized the bathroom was occupied by one unfortunate infantryman, who had evidently stepped in to relieve himself mid-vigil. He was at the mirror washing his hands—a poor elezen that was no doubt a conscript. Fear flashed in his eyes as Gaius struck. One metal-clad fist to the back of the man’s head and the soldier was soundly asleep on the bathroom floor. The others took care to step over him as they cautiously departed.

The storage room was a short jaunt down the hall. There were thankfully no cameras here—Dragonhead was not a prominent enough location to receive such a security system from the legatus. And given the outpost’s small size, the majority of their supplies were kept in one warehouse, sorted in columns that would make it easy to discern what to grab.

The only hard part would be to silence the guards before they got a distress signal out.

Gaius made sure Heirsbane was loaded as he carefully cracked the door open. A quick gander showed three guards still in the room, their laziness evident in their posture. Two of them were hanging out on the far side of the room. The other was wandering about unawares. More conscripts. Two elezen and a roegadyn.

He closed the door, looking at his squadron.

“Three of them. We silence them before they can reach for their radios,” he instructed and they all nodded.

The door opened and he fired first at the roegadyn, the bullet zinging off of the soldier’s helmet. Cries of shock rang in his ears over the next few seconds, the attack brief but not deadly. Gaius closed the distance between himself and the roegadyn, driving Heirsbane’s hilt into the roe’s forehead. Despite the conscript’s helmet being in the way, he heard a semi-satisfying crack of bone and the man slumped to the ground with a groan. Evelyn had the last blow on one of the elezen with her shield and Theodeaux checked the other to make sure they were downed. 

“I thought there’d be more,” N’hyako remarked.

“Thank the Twelve there weren’t,” Evelyn snapped at him. “We’d have been in a heap of trouble otherwise.”

“Evelyn, see to the food. Nevaeh, Theodeaux—armor platings if you can find any. N’hyako, with me,” Gaius said and the group began working on their tasks at once.

“What’re we looking for?” the miqo’te asked as he chased after Gaius, who was keenly looking over a half-empty crate full of potions and elixirs.

"Medical supplies,” Gaius replied hastily. “For the injured.”

“Shouldn’t we grab weapons?” N’hyako asked as he started filling his bag with vials upon vials of ethers.

Gaius side-eyed the lad. “Do you think you can fit a Garlean spear into your sack?”

“I…” N’hyako’s ears drooped. “G-good point.”

A few long minutes passed before a crackle of static caught Gaius’s ear. His head snapped in the direction of the roegadyn, who was unmoving but yet breathing. A missive was coming in, no doubt from another officer. Three quick strides and Gaius was at the conscript’s side, plucking the radio off of his belt and lifting it to his ear.

“Warehouse surveillance, respond! Arvina, Duinort, Faudiere—respond! Do _not_ make me send the Decurio after you!” crackled a voice on the other end.

_Arvina._

Gaius’s eyes flashed for a moment down at the roe, a lurch of unease in his stomach. He told himself there was no time for sentimentalities here. Rhitahtyn was dead and anyone carrying his name was no ghost, just a stranger. One that he could not afford to distract him.

“Arvina responding,” Gaius spoke into the radio, aware that his four subordinates were watching him. “Warehouse is clear.”

Gaius did not doubt this mystery person on the other end was the outpost’s Tesserarius—head of communications. Hourly reports were needed from all stations and he supposed now was the time that these three were to give their reports. Unfortunate. He was at least thankful he had played this role before—the unwitting grunt sent to make sure cargo boxes did not move themselves.

“Arvina,” the Tesserarius replied. “I heard a small commotion on your radio. What is going on over there?”

He winced. The roe must have hit the transmission button when he had fallen. Very, very unfortunate.

“I dropped my radio,” Gaius replied at once—the first lie he could think of.

“ _Ugh_. Of course you did, you clumsy lout,” the Tesserarius retorted venomously. “Fool. At least you’re not guarding anything _valuable_ or I would have dispatched back up at once. Carry on, legionnaire. Glory to the Empire.”

“Glory to the Empire,” Gaius echoed, hating each word.

And then the line went dead. Gaius blew out a slow exhale, setting the radio down. He tossed a glance at where Evelyn was trying not to stare, Nevaeh had hidden her face in her bag in an attempt to look like she was taking stock of what she had nabbed, N’hyako was gawking, and Theodeaux was shoveling heavy armor plates into his bag without an expression on his sullen features. Gaius supposed those words sounded treasonous to the ear but they had felt more than hollow to speak. He went back to grabbing a few potions, the awkwardness slowly dying away.

When thirty minutes had passed, he decided it was time to stop pushing their luck. He motioned for the others to follow him, an amused smile flickering across his face as Theodeaux struggled to lift his bag over his shoulder. Evelyn shook her head disdainfully at the elezen as they slipped out of the room, making the short walk towards the men’s restroom.

“I won’t lie,” Evelyn whispered as they walked in. “Something feels a might bit wrong about using this as our way in and out.”

“Look, we could get flushed down the privy for all I care. As long as we stick it to the Garlean bastards,” Nevaeh replied. “No offense, Commander.”

Gaius removed the grate and had Theodeaux take the lead, casting a careful look back towards the door leading into the bathroom. As the others crept in, he followed them, musing over how it had been a relatively smooth mission. The grate was replaced and Gaius prayed the Imperials would be none the wiser that they were there. Not until the real Arvina awoke and put in his distress call.

The Coerthan night soon came into view through the opening in the pipe ahead. The others filed out with Gaius bringing up the rear. They paused for a moment to breathe and get their bearings, the brisk wintery winter refreshing compared to the grimy, pungent scent of the pipe. Gaius pressed them to continue along but he had not taken three steps before he heard the unmistakable sound of the outpost’s gate mechanism whirring.

“Oh no…” Nevaeh murmured but all that did was spur Gaius to usher them along more urgently.

Their creeping along the fringe of the outpost’s light turned into a wild sprint for the dark safety of the Coerthan woods. Theodeaux doggedly ran behind the others, burdened by his hefty load of armor platings that did little to conceal their whereabouts as they fled. More mechanical noises chased them into the night, the thundering sound of hefty metal legs piercing through the snow.

_And what tipped off the guard, I wonder?_ Gaius mulled darkly as he pushed N’hyako along, tossing a look over his shoulder back at where there were flashlights and magitek en route. The lack of gunfire meant they had not been spotted but if they were unlucky, the Imperials would soon overtake them as they combed through the woods. They paused for a breather under a small overhang, hearing the sound of the magitek stomping around the woods.

When the coast was relatively clear, they carried on back to their vehicle. The slipper soon came into sight but Gaius realized with a sinking feeling that it would no doubt attract attention from the scouring Garleans. 

“Theodeaux,” Gaius said. “Man the turret.”

“Aye,” the elezen answered bitterly as they all took their seats into the slipper.

“What do the rest of us do?” N’hyako asked.

Gaius pulled a Garlean pistol out from under the slipper’s dashboard, handing it to the miqo’te wordlessly. He then activated the slipper’s engines and hit the thrusters. The thundering sound of a Vanguard behind them alerted him and he heard Theodeaux loose a few shots into the darkness behind him. A few long-range missiles flared past their slipper, igniting a tree. Their turret fired back and Gaius pressed the slipper to go faster. More shots chased their bullets but he coaxed more speed out of the slipper, scraping the side of its hull against a tree trunk. The Vanguards were not as fast, he knew. They would soon lose track of their foes and fade into the black of night. 

It was a long while before silence resumed, however. When the last of the missiles being fired had long echoed into quiet, he felt his hands lax at the controls. Theodeaux plopped down into the back seat between Nevaeh and N’hyako, silent. They were all listening, Gaius knew, for any signs they had been followed. 

“How did they know?” Evelyn asked Gaius.

“Mayhaps their unconscious warehouse guards awoke,” he suggested.

“No alarum,” Evelyn pointed out.

He had no argument to that. Instead, he held his tongue and kept piloting the slipper until Snowcloak came into view. The watch opened the hanger for them and they were soon out of the cold. As they unloaded, Gaius caught a whiff of his boots, still caked in muck. A shower was in order for certain, along with a load of laundry.

“And how did it go?” asked Biggs, who was tinkering with a stolen magitek walker as they completed unloading.

“Well enough,” Gaius replied. “The slipper is undamaged as well. That should please Nero.”

“Aye,” Biggs said, glancing back at them and then gesturing to their boots. “He may not thank you for the muddy mess on the floor, though.”

“I am certain we can mop that up after we have cleaned ourselves,” Gaius replied.

“Fair enough. My thanks for not damaging the slipper. Wedge was worried he would have to patch another one up,” Biggs remarked.

They put aside the bags in a pile, with Gaius vowing to the others he would have someone take stock of what they had snagged and file the report to Tataru. On the morrow, of course—it was the thick of night and he was tired from the day’s events. They were dismissed and Gaius bade Biggs a good night. He made a beeline for his quarters, grabbing a slip of paper that had been left under his door as he stumbled his way to the shower. After cleaning himself, he tossed his clothes into a hamper and sealed it shut—another problem for tomorrow. He turned his attention to the note, a quickly scribbled missive from Tataru.

“Meeting tomorrow at one bell past noon. Thank you for getting the supplies. I do appreciate it. – Tataru Taru, Antecedent of the Wild Rose Rebellion”

He set the note aside on his dresser, musing to himself about how when it was not one thing, it was the other. A reminder flashed across his mind that tomorrow morning was another training session with Kaida. That urged him to retire for the night, slipping under the covers of his bed with his towel still wrapped around his hips. He thought he would fall asleep quickly but as his mind churned out thoughts over the next day, he found himself unable to sleep.

Instead, he stared at the ceiling and thought of the mounting problems the rebellion had. Lack of troops. Having to pillage Imperial outposts to stay alive. The lack of magitek weaponry to combat the Garleans. Having little to no contacts outside of the highlands. Kaida’s injuries. All of the missing.

Gaius rolled over, mulling over the advice he had given Tataru. One step at a time. Finding Kaida and getting those supplies were a step. Now it was time to take the next one. And that could not be done until the morrow came.

When he pushed aside those thoughts, he let other ones in. About the name Arvina and Rhitahtyn, who had carried it with the same pride he had carried his title. How Nero still favored the color red after all of these years. About Cid and the way he had smiled softly when they had reunited at Ghimlyt years ago, after not seeing each other since Praetorium. About Livia and how she would have loved the Coerthan snow. Bittersweet thoughts that ushered him soon into slumber.


	9. Dark Mind

_“I am unworthy,” said Rhitahtyn sas Arvina, his right knee gracing the black tile underfoot. He lowered his head, unable to meet the legatus’s eye. “I would ask you reconsider, your Excellency.”_

_If such a statement had come from any other, he would have thought it an insult. No one questioned his judgment—much less one of his own subordinates. He cast his silver-hued eyes towards the mantle and the hearth that blazed beneath. The walls of his parlor were rife with trophies from conquests. Armaments from across the Ruby Sea, gilded and sparkling in the low light. Crests from lords he had crushed. A drake’s horns from the lands of Dravania. They littered his wall in a mosaic of his accomplishments. Beneath it all hung Heirsbane, polished and mounted, the metal of its blade reflecting firelight._

_Such trophies and tales of grandeur and Rhitahtyn would question him._

_It was over a decade ago that I took your home with steel and fire,” Gaius van Baelsar said, still looking towards the flames of his hearth. “As I recall, you fought against us until you came upon the realization that Garlean occupation was the elixir your country needed for stability. You laid down your weapon at my feet and told me you would follow.”_

_"A mere wonder you did not strike me down for cowardice,” Rhitahtyn remarked bitterly._

_Gaius snorted, glancing back at him. “I did not because I saw no coward in front of me. Instead, I saw a young soldier with promise. And then a ward of mine own house, a decision in which I have never regretted and never shall. Rise, Rhitahtyn. You are Praefectus Castrorum and I will hear no debate from you.”_

_"This will put you out of favor,” Rhitahtyn began, lifting his gaze. “They will demean you for placing a… a savage in such a position.”_

_"They will,” Gaius agreed calmly. “But show me a single man of the Empire who has accomplished more than I. Whilst they balk and gossip, the XIV Legion continues to pave a brighter future for the Empire. Let such small-minded fools rot in their own depravity.”_

_"If you are certain…” the roegadyn began, rising up. “Then I will place my faith in your judgment, Lord van Baelsar.”_

_Gaius clasped the roe on the shoulder, giving it a small squeeze._

_"Let no man tell you that you are not a son of Garlemald,” the legatus said. “I am and will continue to be proud of you always.”_

_Rhitahtyn’s eyes glimmered, reflecting surging emotion and the firelight churning in the hearth. A small spread across his face, bittersweet and yet pure. It was a look of hope, Gaius realized. A hope that one day, blood would not matter and they could all carry on forward bringing unification to the world. A hope that there would be peace._

* * *

He awoke, the silence of his cold room deafening and heavy. Sitting upright, Gaius let the blankets fall from his torso, resting in his lap. A stiff, asphyxiating feeling in his chest and throat made it hard to concentrate on anything. But it passed as it always did, grief and loss drifting back into the recesses of his mind. He sighed, running his hands through his hair a few times before finding the willpower to get out of bed. After cleaning himself again and getting dressed, he found that he felt much better than he had anticipated he would after such a long night.

By the time he made it to the training grounds on the topmost floor of their half-frozen headquarters, Kaida was already there waiting for him. She leaned against the wall, stiffening up when he approached. Today there was a bit more light in her eyes, he noticed. She seemed a bit more like her old self… not that he had much to judge from. Just a clash in Praetorium and a few side missions before the invasion where she had been content to occasionally sass him and glare at him as they fought magitek weaponry.

“Wow,” the Raen commented and he paused just long enough to shoot her a quizzical look. “You look tired.”

“We had to go to Dragonhead last night. More supplies were needed,” Gaius replied. “Take a sword and strike the dummy.”

“I did that yesterday,” Kaida protested.

“And you will do it today.”

She did not seem inclined to be disagreeable and Gaius found himself a tad bit disappointed. There was something amusing about the way she protested. Huffy and yet bold—a blend of ladylike manner and roguish adventurer. He watched her as she grabbed one of the training swords, musing over how she favored one of the larger ones. That made sense; in the years after their clash in Praetorium, she had evidently opted for a claymore. He had never heard the tale as to why she had abandoned her cane for a martial weapon, but he was certain there was something to it. After all, she had been quite proficient at spell-slinging before. Enough to cut through his armor, at least.

Her swings against the dummy were fascinating. Three strikes passed and he saw her move to using the sword in a two-handed manner. A small smile flickered across his mouth. Each stroke of the blade was hefty, rife with fury and malice. Her footwork felt heavy, as if expecting the training sword to weigh more than it did. Or maybe her body was trying to remember how it had been before when she had been in her prime. The next cleave came and one of the dummy’s arms fell off. The anger in her eyes gave them a menacing gleam. The edge of his mouth threatened to crack into a smile but he stifled it. That rage she felt while holding the sword, he hoped that fueled her enough to want to get better. He hoped it fueled their rebellion all the way to the Emperor. 

Kaida tired easily, however, and his scrutinizing gaze could see it well. Her swings grew sloppier and sloppier until he was certain she was only going through the motions. The footwork became a clumsy mess, the Au Ra nearly tripping over herself to get a stab in. His enjoyment watching her waned quickly.

“What do you hope to accomplish by having me do this?” Kaida asked him after some time, shoving the sword’s tip into the ground and leaning against its handle. “Feels like I could learn more by bringing this sword against you.”

“Lady Asagiri—” began Gaius before stopping himself. “ _Kaida_. I thought it best to try a few swings as a warm up before we were to face off again. I see you picked the larger sword.”

“It’s more what I’m used to,” the Raen countered defensively.

“That is fine,” Gaius reassured her. “Your comfort is my priority, along with ensuring you are ready for Ifrit.”

“I heard you’re coming with me for that,” Kaida said, lowering her gaze momentarily. “Aren’t you concerned you’ll get tempered?”

“Hm. I suppose that shall serve as further motivation to ensure you are ready,” Gaius replied simply and the Raen gawked at him.

“You’re putting yourself in danger, you know,” Kaida began.

“I put myself in danger on a daily basis at this point,” Gaius said. “The effect has long been lost on me. I am a man who has walked this earth longer than I should have been allowed.”

Kaida paused. “I was wondering about that. What ever happened to that elezen and hyur you were traveling with?”

“Severa has taken a place in our intelligence network. I believe she is stationed somewhere in Thanalan. Valdeaulin…” His voice trailed off. “I have not heard of him in some time. After the invasion, he gave up—as many men are wont to do when they see that they have lost everything and more. I am told he frequents a few independently-owned bars in Mor Dhona, seeking an end at the bottom of an ale bottle.”

“I am glad they yet live,” Kaida said. “For whatever that’s worth these days. I guess you’re a free man these days then, without Valdeaulin sharpening his figurative executioner’s axe all the time behind your back.”

There was a lot he could say about that but those thoughts stayed walled in his mind. Valdeaulin withering away in Mor Dhona was a terrible fate for a man who had already lost everything he had cared for. But the day Ala Mhigo fell, hope had fled the Duskwight and he had spat his farewell at his former, willing hostage. An unceremonious departure had then ensued and Gaius could not say if he had been relieved or disappointed by the elezen’s actions. He had not wanted to die but he had accepted that his loss at Praetorium had forfeited his right to have any say in his fate. Valdeaulin had left and with doom upon them, Gaius knew that he had been spared one grim fate for another, one arguably more agonizing. Banding with Tataru had been out of necessity for the both of them. She needed a military leader. He needed to die knowing the Ascians did not win. At least Tataru did not spare him such malicious glares that the Duskwight had.

“Not quite,” Gaius replied vaguely.

“What do you mean by that?” Kaida asked.

“As I have told you before, my aim is to restore Garlemald by wresting it away from the clutches of the Ascians,” Gaius said. “I will not be free until that is done.”

“So noble,” Kaida remarked, an edge of sarcasm in her voice. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you were around to take care of Tataru while I was gone.”

“A difficult task,” Gaius replied with a wry smirk. “As is keeping you focused on your training. Are you ready for a match, O Champion of Eorzea?”

“I slept extra good last night,” Kaida said. One gander at the bags under her eyes and Gaius did not believe her. At least she still had that fire in her irises. “Wanted to make sure I wouldn’t get dizzy on you again.”  
  
“How thoughtful. Very well. Ready yourself.”

The first round came and went with Gaius successfully disarming her within a minute. He let her pick her sword up to try again, the second round yielding the Raen landing a single blow on him before he forced her to the ground with a single shove. She tumbled back and he shook his head, chastising himself inwardly for not pulling more punches on her. On one hand, he did not want to be a soft teacher. On the other, he did not want to push her past her limits. The third round, he held himself back and she landed a few solid blows on him. But as the third nearly came, the Raen scowled and shoved her sword’s tip into the dirt with a huff.

“Stop it!” She snapped at him.

“What do you mean?” Gaius asked.

“You’re letting me win,” Kaida accused him. “I can tell. I left two openings and you didn’t even take them.”

“And how would that help you?” Gaius asked her.

“I would know not to leave openings!” Kaida exclaimed.

“You _already_ know that,” Gaius tutted at her. “Though I suppose I could still follow through with each possible attack. Is that really what you prefer?”

“Yes,” the Raen said through clenched teeth and Gaius shook his head.

“If that is your desire…” he said apprehensively and the fourth round started.

He could tell she was already tiring fast but that did not stop her from charging at him. A vertical cleave down and he parried it. The next hit she was anticipating, blocking it as he swung. Their swords clashed a few times and Gaius felt excitement rise in his chest. She moved with more speed than before, resolve aglow in her eyes. There was a flicker of that old fighter in front of him, but just as his excitement rose, it fell. She swung hard and exposed her left side. The hilt of his sword met it and she fell to the ground with an agonized yelp.

Fear coursed through his veins as she crumpled to a knee, grabbing the spot with a hand and wincing. He rushed to her side, taking a knee next to her. She shied away from him, averting her gaze. Kaida’s small, thin body rocked and at first he thought it was a tearful sob of pain or that the hit had caused something to go wrong with her lungs. But after a moment, he realized that she was not upset.

She was… laughing. It sounded bitter and merry at once. It sounded harsh and it sounded delighted. Kaida lowered her hand from where he had hit her and looked at him, a cruel and grim smile on her face. 

“I’ll be frank with you, Baelsar,” Kaida said, her emerald eyes taking a venomous tone and her pain accented in the way she breathed as she laughed. “I did not think you would do it.”

“Are you… all right…?” He asked carefully.

“I’m great,” Kaida said in a voice that sounded not-so-great at all. “Just color me impressed, Commander. I did not think you had it in you.”

“What do you mean?” Gaius asked apprehensively.

“Ever since I woke up, everyone’s treated me like a delicate flower. I figured you’d be the same,” the Raen remarked.

He had nothing to say to that. She knew him well enough; he did not tolerate weakness. Not in his own troops. Not in himself. And certainly he would not tolerate it in her. His pale eyes took in her embittered expression—the savage smile of someone who almost cherish the pain she was in, the maddened gleam in her eyes of unspoken rage and grief. Kaida lowered her gaze for a moment to the icy ground.

“You know, don’t you?” the Raen asked him. “That I’m unable to fight Ifrit. I won't ever be.”

“A lie,” Gaius said flatly.

“They broke me in that castrum and you’ve known it all along,” Kaida replied, voice rising in anger. “That hero you want to put back together so bad is dead. We’re all just playing at hope at this point. Because that’s all we’ve ever known how to do.”

“I did not suggest you fight Ifrit because I thought you would _lose,_ ” Gaius said, a growl in the depths of his throat. He offered her his hand and she slapped it away. His anger was a subtle rise in his chest. “And even the broken can be mended again.”

“Oh stop it,” Kaida seethed, glaring up at him. “This rebellion is a farce and you have already lost banking your victory on me. It’s not like I could have saved us a year ago. Now will be no different.”

“If you must know, I did suspect you thought so ill of yourself. I cannot say anyone in your position would feel any differently,” Gaius replied carefully, offering his hand again. “But as I see it, you can either waste away in these frozen walls ruing your own existence or pick up your sword and fight.”

“Fight to die,” Kaida spat, rising to her feet. “Waste away here or die out there—it makes no difference. Death is death and we’re all running headfirst towards it regardless of our choices.” 

She walked towards the door, leaving her practice sword on the floor. Gaius’s pale eyes moved from her to the sword on the ground then back to her. There was a slight hobble in her gait but he could tell she was looking at something. Her hand, he realized. She was looking at it and he wondered if it was her claymore she was missing. Well there was a simple solution to that. 

“I will change your mind,” the ex-legatus vowed and the Raen stopped to looked back at him cynically. “If you would permit me.”

“You’ll have to try hard, commander,” Kaida said. “I’m not wont to change my opinion easily.”

“Then come with me,” Gaius replied and the Raen’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and intrigue.

He put away the two practice swords and then beckoned for her to follow him down the stairs leading out from the training grounds. She was a stubborn sort, he knew, but she was enticed easily. A simple pull of words would have her trailing after him. Gaius suppressed a smirk as he noticed her follow, still carrying that suspicious look on her face. They wandered down the long steps to the residential sector of the Stilled Ice, Kaida keeping a pace’s distance from Gaius. She was silent but he could almost hear her confusion in her huffing breaths and accusing glares. 

His quarters came into view before long and Kaida hesitated at the doorway. Gaius opened the door and stepped inside. 

“Follow,” He bade her and she obeyed. The door closed behind her and she cast another uncertain glance at it. 

“I had not planned to show you this for a week,” Gaius said, reaching under the bed. 

“Show me… what…” Kaida asked, eyes narrowing.

“You are… insinuating something,” Gaius paused as he found what he was looking for. The edge of a large, rectangular wooden box grazed his fingertips and he managed to pull it out from underneath the bed frame, sliding it over to Kaida with his foot.

“D-don’t worry about it,” Kaida said dismissively and Gaius shook his head at her.

“Open it,” he said, gesturing to the box.

She tossed him a glare then knelt down to the ground. The box had twin metal latches, fashioned by an old Gridanian blacksmith. Kaida flipped both latches and grabbed the lid. Her eyes flitted up to Gaius, as if expecting the worst. He kept his expression neutral as he stared back at her, watching as she opened the lid. Her gaze trailed to the box’s contents, flashing wide in surprise. She gasped.

Deathbringer was the name of her claymore, the one that sat within the large box. It was nestled in a blanket, the blade wrapped in cloth for protection. Its eye marking on its base bore up at the ceiling, lifeless. The claymore had been crafted of ebony metal, intricate carvings made to give it a haunting appearance. 

Her fingers grazed over the metal, brushing over its surface in quiet reverence. She swallowed and he could see those once-spiteful eyes soften with something else. Memories, no doubt, a better time. Gaius crossed his arms over his chest as her hands worked to grab a holt of Deathbringer’s hilt. They slid into their proper places, remembering where they had belonged a year ago. Kaida lifted the blade halfway, giving it a small squeeze. Deathbringer brimmed to life, a cyan glow coursing through its design and flooding the black metal until it glowed like a blue star in her hands. A smile crossed her lips, genuine and pure. But her excitement was soon replaced as she noticed something else in the box. Gingerly, Kaida lowered the blade and grabbed the other item, a dark sanguine gemstone with a strange rune etched into it. 

“The Dark Knight’s crystal…” the Raen whispered, nestling the jewel in her hand. “You kept them both here all of this time?” 

“I did,” Gaius nodded. “I predicted they would come in use later.”

“I thought the Garleans had seized them both,” Kaida began, voice thick with emotion.

“They returned them to us as evidence of your demise,” Gaius reminded her. “And Tataru bade me hold onto it. She said if it were to be used by any hands then it ought to be mine. I disagreed. But I still held onto it and the crystal both. They were always yours.”

“T-thank you…” Kaida said, voice dropping into a whisper.

She took the blade in one hand, hoisting it up as much as she could with the tip still in the box. In the other hand, she cradled the Dark Knight’s crystal. The expression on her face held a myriad of emotions. Her lips parted slightly, lungs breathing in the moment. A tear drop or two leaked from her eyes, splashing onto the cold floor below. Kaida’s hand tightened around the claymore’s hilt.

“Tell me,” Gaius asked, closing the distance between them by two steps. Deathbringer glowed brightly but there was something to be said for the dark stone in her hand. It twinkled dimly like the pulse of a heartbeat. His gaze skirted up to her face, a single question breaking the revered silence. “Is your mind changed?” 

“I…” Kaida began, conflict brewing in those gemstone eyes of hers. She glanced up at him. That icy, dark hopelessness was gone, he noticed. There was something else there. Warmer, softer. Hope.

But then it was gone. Her eyes snapped wide, the blade falling from her hands and spilling out onto the ground with a loud clank. She screamed, grabbing her arm and letting the job crystal fall to the ground. Kaida sank to her knees, looking possessed by pain for a few long seconds. Gaius was a split-second from rushing out of the room to find Krile but as soon as he rose to do so, she seemed to recover. She panted, massaging her arm for a few moments.

“You’re injured,” he began.

“No…” Kaida managed out. “No.”

“Then what was—” Gaius started.

“Proof, commander,” the Raen said, unsteadily rising to her feet. “That I am right and you are wrong.”


	10. Low Blow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The answer to all of life's problems is not at the bottom of a rum bottle.

_The blank space they were trapped in was growing to become something less hellish and more like an uncanny home. Ardbert sat by her side all the while, oceanic blue eyes cast up to the sky as if they anticipated a steady roll of puffy clouds. Kaida’s arms were wrapped around her knees, resting her scaled chin and looking out into the abyssal place they had dwelled in for… an eternity? A few hours? It was hard to say. She and Ardbert had filled the silence for a while with tales of their exploits when they were younger. He spoke of Voeburt and how it had looked ages ago in its prime. She told them of the underwater village she had come from and the kami that had sheltered her people. Ardbert spoke of his first kill with his axe and upon thinking of her claymore, Kaida’s arm twitched under her gauntlet. It was a strange feeling—pain and then not. Like needles pricked her flesh incessantly but they were unseen._

_“Are you all right?” he asked her, catching her look at her arm._

_"It’s strange,” the Raen confessed. “I don’t feel any pain except this sometimes. And only every so often. You’d think if I were dead, it wouldn’t hurt.”_

_"Then perhaps you are not,” Ardbert said after a moment of thought, a seriousness crossing his face._

_“I’m asleep? But we’ve been here forever,” Kaida pointed out. “Why wouldn’t I have woken up?”_

_"I… cannot say,” Ardbert replied. “It’s a mystery to me as well. I can think of no reason why it would be this way unless somehow… you’re alive in the waking world. What do you remember before you fell unconscious?”_

_That question made her arm tingle even more. She averted her gaze from him, looking instead out across the blank space._

_“It’s just a jumbled mess now.”_

_His silence made her feel as though she had to keep talking. And so she did._

_"There was Zenos. And then there was… someone else,” she finally said. “I just remember… lights. Flashing lights. Lots of voices, all together at once but they were yelling different things. Zenos… was one of them. He sounded so angry. It wasn’t… it wasn’t like him.”_

_“What do you mean?” Ardbert asked._

_"That’s a man who only knows how to kill. He lives for the thrill of it. That’s what the whole invasion was about. His appetite needed whetting and there’s only one person that could do that…” Kaida continued, her arm prickling even more. She winced and shook her head. “It just doesn’t make sense. I don’t… I don’t remember…”_

_“Remember…?” he prompted._

_“I don’t… remember fighting him,” Kaida admitted. “But I had to have. Why else…?”_

_Their empty abyss began to tremble then, a steady roar growing and building. Her eyes snapped to Ardbert. She could feel something breaking. Something that was beyond her comprehension and beyond this strange limbo. It could be tangibly felt but unseen. Her knees felt weak, her heart thrumming a frantic beat in her chest._

_“What’s happening?!” she asked Ardbert, as if he had all the answers. He looked at her and shook his head._

_“I… I don’t…” Ardbert began, a sudden spike in intensity from the trembles sending them both to the ground._

_Everything was moving so fast that it was hard to move. But once she saw Ardbert laying a few feet away, she began towards him. The white abyss in front of her severed, splitting a dark crack between them both. One of her hands gripped the edge of it. The other reached out across the growing crevice towards Ardbert. He crawled towards her as well, his gloved hand just a few inches short from hers._

_Something was pulling her away. Something from the outside. The crevice soon became a canyon and they were impossibly far from each other. And the world still shook, still kept them on the ground. Kaida’s heart soared with fear as she looked at where Ardbert was still trying to reach out for her futilely. But the gap only widened and she could feel bits of her mind tugging back into reality._

_“You’ll be okay!” he yelled to her, the blank abyss closing in around her vision, whitening her peripherals. She tried to scream out to him but her voice was muted and he soon drifted out of view. For a moment, Kaida Asagiri feared the limbo without him. And then the limbo fell away and she could feel herself return to the waking world. Cold and pained._

* * *

The touch of Deathbringer and the job crystal had awoken memories in her that she felt herself jerk away from. But they chased after her with hands of cold, callous steel and malice. Kaida only knew how to run from them and so she did. As they reared their ugly heads at her, she worked to shut them out. Flickers of recollection banged their fists on the walls she put up around them. A loud clamor that fell into quiet. In the quiet, in the not-remembering, there was peace. Or some semblance of it.

She turned away from Gaius, the sword, and the gleaming stone, and began towards the door. Kaida’s hand snagged the doorknob and she pushed it open with fear strengthening her arms. The hallways of the Stilled Ice were quiet too, but in a different way. Snowcloak’s cold seeped in the air and chilled her face, birthing more resolve in her harsh eyes.

“Hold. We need to get you to Miss Baldesion and Master Elmont,” Gaius protested from behind.

“You will do no such thing,” Kaida replied sourly, not knowing anything else she would hate more than that at the moment.

“You have no authority to make that decision,” came his gruff retort.

“I have no authority over _myself_!?” Kaida sputtered, rounding on him with seething anger in her voice.

“Not whilst you act like this,” Gaius scowled at her.

‘Like this’ rang in her mind over and over again. And her grip on the doorknob tightened until her knuckles were visibly paled. A dangerous wave of angry words sat upon her tongue but they were silenced by a wiser part of her mind. Sure, this was ridiculous. But she could not deny her own hurt and rage. She could only feed it.

“Fine. Go talk with them,” Kaida said angrily. “I don’t care. But you’re not dragging me in there to get poked and prodded again.”

She left before he could protest further, stealing down the ice-ridden corridor with a hastened pace that made a soft whistle of wind about her unkempt horns. There was no destination in mind. Just a need to be away, a need to escape. 

The dining hallway was where she ended up for some reason. She pushed through the door, a splitting fear in her as she did so that it would be occupied by their rabble of troops and other workers. But it was blissfully empty when she stumbled in. The hearth was not even stoked, leaving a chill in the room. She shivered, giving herself a small hug as she tried to decide what next to do. The Raen’s eyes skirted to the door that fed into the kitchens. Her stomach did not growl but her throat burned with a need for something she had not had in over a year. Something that would make that weight on her shoulders feel a bit lighter.

She just needed to convince someone to let her have it.

Kaida came through the door meekly, curious emerald eyes flitting about until they spied the chef hard at work. He was a tiny Plainsfolk with a delightfully bushy mustache that took up the majority of his face. His gaze fell on her at once, inquisitive but unjudging. Perhaps he saw many disheveled soldiers come stumbling in during such odd hours. No words came from his mouth and Kaida knew not what to say. Her politeness had withered. 

“I’m here for booze,” the Raen declared and the Plainsfolk gestured to a pantry, in which the already mess of a Warrior of Light found a large bottle of spiced Lominsan Rum. She tucked it under one arm and walked away. Not a protest came from the chef and not a glance was spared in his direction.

Kaida Asagiri was, of course, very aware of the fact that if Gaius, Krile, or Tataru saw her sporting such a fine bottle under her dainty arm, they would do their best to wrest it away from her. And so she knew that without doubt if she was going to enjoy that burning poison, she was going to have to find an adequate hiding place.

Her hiding place was soon determined, however— an overhang that rested above the hanger. It was mostly deserted, slightly open-air, and it had a nice enough view of the frozen river below. A frosted wind blew through her hair and Kaida was glad she had at least bothered to tie it back. She wandered near the edge of the overhang and sat down on a rock, the bottle in hand. With some difficulty, the Raen managed to pop the cork off. She lifted the bottle but did not particularly know who she was lifting it for. And then she took a drink.

The rum tasted awful after over a year of not drinking. Kaida’s nose wrinkled and she stifled a disdainful cough. Her head shook vigorously, as if that would somehow lessen the bite of the liquor. And then she took another drink. And then another. And then more still, until the burn of the alcohol did not just course down her throat but flooded her veins. 

“Well,” came a voice from behind and when Kaida turned to look back at them, she realized she was tipsy at the least. Nero Scaeva stared at her, a highly amused grin spreading across his face. “I certainly did not think you to be a _rum_ lady, O Great Champion.”

A pause and he added.

“Oh how the mighty have _fallen_.”

“Nero,” Kaida said, voice airy. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for your shit?”

“You never have been in the mood for that. And were Cid here, he would agree with me,” Nero replied, lightly trotting over to inspect not just the Raen but the bottle she clutched defensively to her chest. His grin cracked wider.

“What do you want?” Kaida grumbled.

“To know what happened, of course,” Nero said as he sat down next to her. “What drove Eorzea’s Little Dragon to drinking alone on the roof of my hanger in…”

His eyes skirted to the clouds rolling swiftly across the sky, spurred by a chilly wind.

“… less than ideal weather?”

“Of course you do,” Kaida remarked, looking up at him. “But I don’t see what’s in it for me.”

“I get you another one of those,” Nero gestured to the bottle.

“Meh. It could be better.”

“Fine. Do you like wine?”

“I could be bribed by that.”

“Ah. A woman of _class_.”

The snide aura to his tone made her think he was being facetious and the Raen wrinkled her nose at him, shaking her head with a dismal dullness about her expression. She had nothing to say to that so she busied her mouth with the bottle. The rum tasted better with every swig but she acknowledged that was because the world was becoming a bit less rigid and a bit more flowy. A clear indicator she was merrily on her way to drunkenness… yet still unsatisfied.

“So, I take it your training with Lord Baelsar went about as I expected,” Nero said with a fake, honey-esque pleasantness that made her scowl more pronounced. “He has ever been a harsh teacher with unbelievably high expectations.”

“It’s not that,” Kaida retorted abruptly.

“Oh? I mean, you would not be the first he’s driven to alcoholism,” Nero began.

“I’m not an alcoholic. One drink is not alcoholism,” Kaida retorted.

“I would hypothesize that bottle would count for no less than four drinks,” Nero pointed out.

“It’s just a _big_ drink,” Kaida countered feebly.

“Ah, forgive me then. I was unaware we were counting in measurements of _big drink_ ,” Nero smirked. “Yet still, as… unorthodox as our relationship is, I would ask again what caused Eorzea’s mightiest defender to take on the role of depressed drunk this evening?”

“What is there not to be depressed over?” Kaida asked him bitterly and Nero chuckled.

“A fair assessment of our current situation and one that many of us first came to when the dust had settled over Eorzea. Yet not a particularly productive one to have. Especially at noon and… before one has had lunch, I would wager,” Nero rolled his shoulders into a lackadaisical shrug.

“So what’re you getting at?” the Raen asked suspiciously.

“I am three parts here to ensure you do not drunkenly fall off the hanger,” Nero admitted. “And one part here out of hope that if you do, it will at least be amusing.”

Kaida snorted. “At least you’re honest.”

“Am I? That is possibly the nicest thing you have ever said to me,” Nero commented. “Anyways, regarding Gaius. You must understand that dealing with him is akin to talking to a wall. He has already made up his mind and he will ensure that you see things his way before the day is through. Fighting him is a near futile endeavor. It is simply his nature to want to _win_ and he is ruthless about it. He makes no gambles that are not tilted in his favor. And he will find a way for you to agree with him even if you do not realize it.”

“And who claims we are fighting?” Kaida asked accusingly.

“Simple deduction. The knowledge that he blocks off all mornings from any meetings so that he may train you. The knowledge that it is just now noon and you are drinking—quite heavily, might I add,” Nero said evenly. “Also, I saw you angrily running out of his quarters. Which can only insinuate two things—one being _highly_ more probable than the other.”

Kaida’s cheeks turned dark scarlet and she looked away from Nero, scowling with another sip.

“He showed you the sword, didn’t he?” Nero asked, his smile ringing in his voice. “I was curious if he would. When we were fleeing the Garlean invasion, he carried that sword the entire way—passed the forest and the wall he had made and through the Shroud, until we came to Coerthas. I told him to leave it and grab something _worthwhile_. He rebuked me and said you would need it. I thought him mad at the time but I suppose he was right.”

For some reason, Kaida had the mental image of Gaius running across the salted shallows of the Lochs, cradling Deathbringer in his arms as he was being shot at by Garlean airships. It was an amusing image that gave her a tiny smile, one she tried to hide behind another drink of the bottle. But as she did, she found herself suppressing a chuckle that soon spilled forth. She pulled the bottle down from her lips, shaking her head.

“And what is so funny?” Nero questioned.

“Oh, nothing,” Kaida remarked. “Didn’t expect you to lecture me. Didn’t think you cared so much.”

It was getting harder and harder to form proper sentences and the Raen hoped she was making sense to him.

“Unfortunately, I must, as troublesome as caring about anything of this nature is,” Nero said. “Before, we were in dire straits but such days compared to now would seem, dare I say it, quite pleasant and stress-free. And given that we are just a rock’s throw from Castrum Nocte—relatively speaking, of course—where a very grim fate awaits us all should we fail… well. That certainly puts _some_ manner of perspective onto someone.”

“S’pose there’s some sense in that,” Kaida sighed then gave Nero’s arm a playful shove. “Listen to you. Almost sounding like a good guy. Cid would be proud.”

His smile faltered.

“Ah… yes, I’m… I’m sure he would.”

There was pain in his voice. She was drunk but she could hear it. It sobered her up slightly but only _slightly_ and only for a moment before she downed another hefty swig. The Warrior of Light shook the bottle, the meager remnants of her drink sloshing about inside. She had half a mind to let Nero have the rest but her tongue craved a further dip into blissful madness.

“Nero, if you were me, what would you do?” Kaida asked.

“Truly?” Nero asked with a quirked brow. “I would be tempted to run.”

She laughed.

“Run where?” Kaida asked.

“I would not want to give you any ideas,” Nero said with a ‘tsk’. “Things would return back to the same old doldrums around here and I cannot _stand_ the thought. You returning caused a stir and that makes things more interesting.”

A pause the Garlean slyly smirked at her.

“Hmm. I dare not make this offer often but I suppose I could make it to you,” he said.

“An offer from Nero Scaeva,” Kaida remarked with a slight sway. “Dunno if I should be scared or excited.”

" _Elated_ is what you’re looking for,” Nero replied. “If you should find yourself compelled to down an entire bottle of Lominsan rum once more, I would have you hide in my office rather than sit on such a precarious ledge.” Another pause and he added. “And bring enough to _share_.”

“I’ll consider it,” Kaida said after finishing the bottle, casting it haphazardly behind her. It thudded into a patch of snow and Nero smirked. 

“I suppose that is all I can ask for. And how are you feeling now, Lady Asagiri?”

“Like a fluffy cloud in the sky.”

“Wonderful. I imagine that shan’t last for long.”

“At least I have a ledge here. Prime puking spot.”

“As delicate and ladylike as a flower. One scarcely would believe you used to be a shrine maiden of all things.”

Kaida felt a chill in her, strong enough to sober herself up slightly. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a wistfulness closing in. The Raen tossed a look towards the bottle, the world moving impossibly with her. She wished there had been more but the way her stomach gurgled made her realize it was probably good there had not been. 

A shrine maiden. That was a lifetime ago. A different Kaida Asagiri. That was how she dealt with those memories. She had been a young, foolish girl then with the stars in her eyes and a wanderlust that she believed she could never satiate. She had frolicked about their underwater grounds, shirking her duties and rites, watching the young shrine guards train and fawning over the blonde one. What had his name been? Ah, Daichi, she believed. It was no wonder she had failed to protect the temple when it had needed her. It was no wonder they had banished her for letting that oni into their sacred grounds. The village elders had looked at her, had seen her ineptness, and had judged her for it.

And the fall of Eorzea was no different, she realized. One failure into another. She had gotten too confident twice now. And it had cost her everything. Would there be a day in which she looked back at the Warrior of Light—the one they had called Eorzea’s Little Dragon—and tell herself that was a different Kaida Asagiri? How many times would she fail and sever herself over and over again…?

Her drunken eyes fell back on Nero and she remarked. “I used to be a shrine maiden… and you’re still a dick.”

Nero laughed.

* * *

After spending some time sitting on his bed and staring at Deathbringer on the floor, Gaius had concluded two things—he had not erred in showing her the claymore and though he had come close to seeing her shed that dreary aura of hers, he had failed because that _something_ she was not talking about had interfered. The logical conclusion was wresting more information out of her. But it would have to be drawn from her slowly. Her mental state was a wavering mess. She had lied to Master Elmont about the last thing she remembered and Gaius had immediately recognized the symptoms of anxiety. It was as her recovery progressed that he realized it was anxiety born from trauma. And that trauma was a deeply-cut wound, far deeper than he had anticipated. That much was clear after her fit.

He knew he should tell Krile of Kaida’s supposed injury but when he thought of her rage as she had asked him if she had no authority over herself, Gaius found himself hesitating. To do so would lose him some trust with her and he could not foresee that ending well. Not with their current, uneasy standing. 

By the time he had put both the Dark Knight’s stone and Deathbringer away, he realized he had to keep quiet on Kaida’s condition. Gaius loathed the thought of not being forthcoming with Krile but he understood that above everything at the moment, the direct way to cracking Kaida’s mental state was to toy with giving her what she wanted. If he lowered the barriers just enough, he could ascertain the cause of her dramatic personality shift. And if he could do that, the Black Wolf was convinced he could find the solution.

But that would come later. Another meeting was due with Tataru and he sighed his way to the meeting room with little desire to entertain another pointless talk about what they ought to do moving forward. Their plans were already set and Gaius understood they were only need time to fulfill them. Time and effort… and cooperative Warrior of Light.

When he stepped inside, he knew something had happened. The air was taught with tension, Tataru’s hair was a mess from all the times she trailed her short fingers through it, and Estinien looked even more serious than normal. Krile was massaging her forehead miserably. Nero was noticeably missing but Gaius dismissed that quickly—he had a penchant for skipping out, particularly if the hanger was busy. N’anrih sat where Nero usually did, a series of papers in front of her. She pushed them away, remarking to Estinien that she had never learned her letters before turning her amber gaze to Gaius.

“Well, you certainly caused a stir at Dragonhead last night,” the miqo’te remarked.

“What has happened?” Gaius asked.

“I guess your actions at Castrum Nocte and Dragonhead Outpost finally got their attention,” Tataru said wistfully. “I have just spoken with Godbert and van Granius has deployed a special force. For the sole reason of sniffing out the Rebellion!”

“A special force,” Gaius repeated, unenthused but simultaneously unbothered. “You are aware we have dealt with special forces in the past?”

“Yes but this is different. These are not simple officers of the Imperial army. They’re specialized soldiers. Godbert has no information on this squadron, only that they were dispatched from Ul’dah in the early hours of the morning and their track record for success is undeniable. They are anticipated to arrive in Coerthas shortly,” Tataru said anxiously. “And their leader is someone called the Hopebreaker.”

“We have no reports on this person?” Gaius’s eyes skirted to Estinien and N’anrih.

“Only that they sniffed out a rebellion in the winding streets of Ul’dah and crushed it in a single night,” Estinien remarked. “They were dispatched from the Imperial capital a few moons ago. Their squadron is standard veteran soldiers from the Empire—truebloods one and all with impressive records. But Hopebreaker is a veiled enigma. One that favors a blade to the nape to deal with insurrectionists. They say he is as much magitek as man.”

Gaius’s lip curled disdainfully. Another atrocity from Garlemald. 

“I fear they have been sent after Kaida,” Tataru stated. “With the intention to return her to Castrum Nocte and destroy the Rebellion.”

“Should they find this location, there would be scarcely anything we could do to avoid an onslaught,” Estinien said gravely. “I have spoken with Theodeaux and a few of Iceheart’s former men. There are no roads out the back of Snowcloak that we may access. We would be trapped with ice at our backs and gunfire at our front.”

“No roads exist? Or are they blocked?” Gaius asked.

“Blocked,” Estinien clarified. “The pathways do yet exist but I am afraid that it would take time to clear them. Time we may not have.”

Gaius’s pale eyes cut to Tataru.

“Would you hear my advice, Lady Tataru?” 

“Of course. That is why I brought you here,” the lalafell said eagerly.

“We will cease any operations outside of the Stilled Ice for several days and use magitek monitoring to see if we can get a read on the Hopebreaker and their men. The wildlands are vast and they will be searching in every corner no doubt. Those who are able will work to clear the tunnels. A back route out of the Stilled Ice will benefit us one grim day, be it now or years from now,” Gaius replied. “Estinien, when a few days have passed, send out scouts who would easily blend with Coerthas’s population. They can check the Hopebreaker’s progress and should they come sniffing close to Snowcloak, we can use the back route to slip into the mountains. Working our way around the Ishgardian ruins, we can take a mountain pass to the Dravanian Forelands.”

“The Dravanians have been waging a passive war against the Empire,” Estinien considered aloud. 

“But if we were to do that, all of our supplies… everything in the Stilled Ice that we’ve been working towards…” Tataru said, her face falling. “Is there no other option but to pray and, should things go awry, flee?”

“Unless we give the Hopebreaker a reason to seek lands away from Coerthas,” Gaius said. “No. I’m afraid our options are quite limited.”

“Well, hold there, Gaius,” Tataru began. “Is there no way to lure the Hopebreaker away from Coerthas?”

He considered this for a moment. With their resources and the limited paths they could safely traverse? It was unlikely. Mor Dhona was rife with even more Imperials, its local castrum having expanded its walls since his tenure as legatus. Revenant’s Toll housed adventurer’s aplenty to blend in with but the Imperials held the zone with such an iron grip that he feared sending anyone there would be a death sentence. Feeding the Imperials into the Shroud was risky for all parties involved and he did not dare invoke the ire of their possible allies dwelling beneath the spectre-ridden boughs.

“There may be,” Estinien suggested. “But it would play a card too early, I would wager. We know the Hopebreaker likely seeks to crush the Rebellion but let us make this clear—the Empire wants their captive back above all else. Have her be seen but away from Coerthas. That will send the Emperor’s attack dog running and we can spirit her away back here.”

“You would have us use her as bait,” Gaius said, a hint of incredulousness in his tone.

“It is an option but I take no pleasure in suggesting it,” Estinien shook his head. “It is risky. We have few options to draw them away to.”

"She is not ready to be seen,” Gaius protested. “I fear sending her afield would be naught short of suicide.”

“But it need not be her!” Krile exclaimed, perking up. “A glamour may suffice. All we would need is an able-bodied person who could mirror Kaida’s movements… and not even accurately. Just look the part of someone fleeing into the wilderness.”

“Well, don’t look at me,” N’anrih said at once.

“I am not,” Estinien said brusquely. “I will volunteer. I should suffice, so long as I do not speak.”  
  
“Estinien…” Tataru’s face fell. “And what should happen if you are caught?”

“They will no doubt understand it was a ruse and will double down on their search,” Estinien replied simply. “A risk we must take.”

“And yet I fear losing you…” Tataru began.

The elezen shook his head at her. “A life is risked regardless of the choice we make. And if the commander says Kaida is unable to perform, then I will go in her stead. I have evaded Imperial troops aplenty, lest you have forgotten.”

“I suppose all there’s left to do is hope…” Tataru’s gaze lowered, her voice quivering. She mustered up a tiny smile. “Just promise you’ll come back, Estinien. That’s all I ask.”

He nodded. No spoken promise to return. Gaius’s eyes locked on the elezen, measuring how he betrayed no emotion in his face. Estinien was not prone to wanting to throw his life away and that was the only sliver of consolation he could find in this entire scenario. The only reassurance.

Krile and Estinien began over their plan to mask him as the Warrior of Light and Tataru soon turned her hopeful lilac eyes to the commander. He felt his heart sink as soon as she opened her mouth to ask the fateful question.

“Dare I ask how Kaida is doing in her training? I know she’s only two days in but I figured I would ask anyways,” Tataru inquired in that light, bubbly tone of hers. 

“She is doing fine,” Gaius said simply, a vague enough answer or so he felt. It was clear she was not mentally in the best place but he did not fault her for that. No one would be, after everything she had been through. 

“Has… it been awkward?” Tataru asked with a slight frown. “I did not think about it until later but… well, you’ve only really fought each other once and that was—”

“That matters not,” Gaius said.

“It was wrong of me to put you in that situation,” Tataru began but he held up a hand to silence her.

“I am bound by duty to train her and so I will,” the Black Wolf said simply.

Her face fell slightly. “Your duty? Are you still going on about that? You know at this point, I could never…”

“I was not referring to the task you have taken up in Valdeaulin’s place, only that this falls within my role in this rebellion. It was a wise decision on your part to place me as her mentor. I was… uncertain at first,” Gaius replied stiffly. “But I see now that it was the best decision you could have made.”

“I thank you for your kind words, but…” Tataru sighed. “You are no prisoner here, Gaius. Valdeaulin may have… decided to pass you along to me, but I agreed to no terms with him regarding you or your fate. There is no knife at your neck any longer and I pray you understand that. Despite what he said that day, I do not hold your leash. No one does.”

A smile flickered on his face, soft and pitying.

“A mercy undeserved but I will accept it until the day your judgment changes.”

“And that day will never come, you morose, sour old man!” Tataru said with a huff. “Not in a trillion years! Now, if you want to feel as though you have earned it, I want Kaida swinging her sword around like the old days before I start greying from all this stress! I don’t know what’s worse—you trying to press such weighty decisions on my shoulders or Alphinaud spending all of the Scions’ gil on Gosetsu’s katana!”

“It shall be done, Lady Tataru,” the Black Wolf said with a wry smirk.

“Good!” she declared with another huff.

The meeting dispersed not long after and Gaius wandered down the hallway towards the dining area. He was unsurprised when Estinien followed him in, no words shared between the two as they grabbed their daily allotment for lunch as well as twin pints of ale. They settled in across from each other, one of the maids having stoked a blazing fire to warm them. Estinien wordlessly held out his mug and Gaius clinked his against it with a small sigh. He brought the pale amber liquid to his lips and drank deep of it.

“This plan of yours. You will do nothing risky during it,” the Black Wolf said to the dragoon in a voice that did not permit for backtalk or protest. 

“I had not planned to,” Estinien replied simply. “Though I find your lecture to be most amusing.”

“How so?” Gaius inquired with a sullen side-eye towards his silver-haired colleague.

“Was it not you who decided to single-handled break into Castrum Nocte and steal back the Warrior of Light?” Estinien asked and Gaius took another long drink.

“Recall well that I had only _inferred_ she may be there. I had no distinct plans of any sort.”

“How meek the Wolf’s bite is tonight,” Estinien smirked.

“I could be less meek if you would prefer,” Gaius grumbled. “And remind you that you are strictly prohibited from dying with a sterner lecture.”

“Wasted words. I already know full well the precariousness of this plan and what should happen if I fail,” Estinien said simply.

“Good,” Gaius retorted gruffly.

They fell into silence and the fire burned brightly in the dark of the Stilled Ice’s dining hall. When he finished eating, Gaius stood up and moved closer to the fireplace, reaching out with his hands to take in some of its warmth. His conversation with Tataru played over and over again in his mind, musing over those innocent eyes of hers and that willingness to forgive. In the cruel world they lived in, he had a hard time imagining that would be the face that would lead them through to victory against the Empire. But he hoped he was wrong. He hoped that it was mercy that would win over malice.

He thought of Kaida again and felt a strange sense of guilt for not telling Tataru and Krile of her fit earlier. Keeping it quiet had the potential to be damaging to the Raen’s health but he feared her mindset would only worsen if she had more people fussing over her. He vowed to make a second assessment of her on the morrow. If she still seemed pained, he would inform the others. If she did not? Maybe he was willing to overlook it. For now, at least. Maybe that would be a sufficient enough sign of good faith to appease her. 

Gaius sighed his troubles away into the light of the fire’s glow. The only comfort he took in any of his interactions with her was that look she had given Deathbringer when she had opened its container. There was a tender beauty about that gleam in her eyes. A soft, pure glee as she had grabbed it and its metal had sprung to life with that cyan glow. It warmed his heart to see her like that. And it gave him hope that she was not so far gone as she claimed to be.

“Is the fire that good?” Estinien asked.

“Hm?” Gaius tossed him a confused glance.

“You are… smiling,” Estinien commented. “A rare sight these days.”

“Oh,” Gaius said quickly, frantically looking back at the fire. “I was… thinking of something.”

“Clearly,” Estinien said and Gaius walked back over to the table. He grabbed his mug and downed the rest of the ale, then left to go see to the training of his troops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear this is a slow burn fic. The burning is just painfully slow. I promise it'll happen... eventually. Sometime.


	11. Shirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaida comes up with a plan on how to move forward. Estinien departs on a mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added tags: Fray Myste, Esteem (FFXIV), Livia sas Junius, Rhitahtyn sas Arvina, Zenos yae Galvus, Emet-Selch, Posthumous Character Appearances, Dark Knight Questline (Final Fantasy XIV) Spoilers.
> 
> Remember, added tags do not necessarily have anything to do with the current chapter unless otherwise specified. I'm slowly adding characters to the list to not spoil things for people reading this as it is coming out. 
> 
> I have also firmly decided that those of Gaius's children who do not die in Werlyt are killed during the invasion. Spoiler alert, I guess, but that kinda goes in-hand with my notes on Werlyt in the first chapter. Since it's unfinished, it's hard to determine how to handle it, so I'm making an executive decision. Also it goes without saying but if Gaius somehow dies in 5.5, that doesn't happen in this AU because we do not care for bad canon in this house~
> 
> Next chapter will also be up very, very soon! And boy, it's a doozy.

The Lominsan rum was not kind to her by the time dinner rolled around and even for a few hours after. Kaida had been giggles and laughter all the way down the hall when Nero had dropped her off at her room, so blissfully ignorant to everything around her that she had almost missed completely that Tataru had left a gift on her bedside table. Nero had stuck around to observe her open a box that housed two glass bottles—one containing a rich green hair dye and the other containing a polish for her horns. Kaida had been giddy to receive both of them in the moments before the hangover began to wrap its infernal grasp around her. Nero had, of course, _not_ stuck around for the ensuing vomit fest—claiming a weak stomach. He did, however, feel kind enough to drop off some food at Kaida’s doorstep a few hours later when the Raen had been able to limp to the door and then limp back to her bed.

She ate meagerly, her upset stomach cursing her for her poor choices. The burning sensation of throwing up lingered in the back of her throat as she eventually fled into slumber. A very apt way to avoid more suffering, she figured in the moments before dozing off.

It was the headache persisting that woke her up the next morning in the early hours. She mused over her sickness and how she had never felt this awful before. Was this because she had gotten accustomed to never drinking? Had the Garleans tampered with her ability to recover from a hangover? She cursed them quietly, rolling over and staring at the wall for a few long minutes. The cold kept her in her blankets for some time until her vivid emerald eyes took note of the bottles sitting next to her bed. Dyeing her hair at this point sounded silly and part of her wanted Tataru or Krile’s help to make sure she got every strand dyed. The horn polish, however, seemed like a suitable way to make herself feel better. Kaida finally resolved herself, after much effort, to get up and drag herself to the washroom to clean up and polish her horns.

The sight of her own horns bugged her, looking at all the chips and nicks that they had endured during her captivity. There were harsh, jagged rivets in them that were uncomfortable to look at and if they were not taken care of, she knew they would only deepen. One of the larger ones cut strongly across her left horn and she feared she would lose it if it were not properly cared for. The polish would help, she told herself as she feebly cleaned herself up in the wash tub. The polish would help strengthen the horns and prevent them from cracking further.

By the time Kaida was done washing up, she was acutely aware that the pulsing headache marched in time with the sounds emanating from the corridors outside. The maids were setting about their work and so were the other members of the Rebellion. She told herself not to care, locking the door and plopping herself down in front of the mirror to start the process of tending to her horns. Her eyes were bloodshot, ashen brown hair a tangle that sat almost the length of her back, and she could only laugh to avoid crying. 

She dressed herself warmly before she uncorked the bottle, wrapping herself in a tunic and coat. Her eyes remained half-lidded as she dabbed a bit of the polish onto her right horn and began to stroke it in. An unseen weight in her arms mixed with a tiny tremble on her fingers made the process difficult but she told herself to focus through the unsteadiness. The oily feel of the polish felt good on her fingers and the Raen played with it for a few moments before proceeding with the next horn. She went to tip some onto her left horn when her hand twitched and she dunked a bit more than intended, the polish splashing down onto her shoulder and streaking down the side of her horn. It was cold to the touch and quickly began to seep into her clothes.

“FUCK!” she yelled.

And then the door knocked.

She grabbed a rag to try to soak up the waterfall flowing down her horn as she stumbled to the door. Haggard and with more swears tainting her breath, the Raen grabbed a hold of the doorknob with her oily hand, struggling to open it. A demand to know who was knocking so early almost slipped off her tongue but instead she breathed angrily, her bloodshot eyes staring up at the intruder.

Gaius stared down at her, as awkwardly as she had ever seen him. He was in a black overcoat that reached almost to the ground and was lined with fur. Dark brown scruff sported along his upper lip and jawline, unkempt but in an orderly, purposeful way. His pale eyes darted at once to the rag she was using to mop up the mess she had made.

“Are you… all right?” he asked as if that was an appropriate question ever given their circumstances.

“Yes,” Kaida said miserably.

“You are an hour late to training,” Gaius pointed out and the Raen’s eyes snapped wide.

Was she really an hour late? What time was it? Her brain felt foggy with illness still and despite her efforts to make herself feel better, all she felt was worse. The polish had infested her clothes, making her shoulder cold and the fabric around it soggy. She sighed, blinking and looking down at her bare feet. If she was honest, she had not thought twice about training with him. Not since yesterday. But… she supposed she still had to go. Even if this all did seem like a waste of time.

“I-I… am sorry,” she said. “I overslept.”

“What were you doing?” Gaius asked then his eyes widened slightly. “Ah. Your horns.”

“What about them?” Kaida asked moodily, feeling warmth come to her cheeks. She dabbed some more of the oil away and looked down at the rag miserably. What a waste, the Raen mused darkly.

“Do you… require assistance?” Gaius asked uncertainly.

“Ehh?” Kaida asked.

He shifted his weight. “I used to do this. With…” A pause—faltering, uneasy, but in a way that was different. In a way that seemed… _innocent_. Was that even possible for him? “… My wards.”

Wards. Ah, his children. Right. They had all been Raens, hadn’t they? Well, at least _most_ of them had been. 

“I-I…” Kaida began, words coming and going from her tongue.

Her kneejerk instinct was to deny him, a flustered feeling creeping up the back of her neck. Horn polishing was something between family members or loved ones. Not former enemies. Not sparring partners. Not… not _him_. And given his Garlean ancestry, she severely doubted he understood the implications of what he was asking. But she was exhausted. She could feel her arms were akin to weights. And she feared tipping more of the polish all over her and wasting it. Tataru had no doubt gone through great lengths to find this. Au Ra were not common in Eorzea and their hygiene products less so. Especially these days.

“I… sure,” Kaida sighed. “Yes. Erm. C-come in.”

He stepped inside and she shut the door quickly behind him, praying to the kami and the Twelve both that no one had witnessed him enter. She stumbled to the bathroom and sat down at a chair in front of the mirror, tucking her chin close to her collarbone and feeling very much like a child. When was the last time anyone had polished her horns for her? Before she had been exiled from her home. It had probably been her sister. Yes, that seemed right. A polishing before bed as they chatted idly about the day’s events, boys, and their wishes for the future. Blissful times back then.

And now Gaius Baelsar was about to do it. Gaius, the one who had tried to kill her years ago. The one that should have burned away in Praetorium, a shamed general to the cruelest empire the world had ever seen. She tried to tell herself that perhaps as she tried to sever herself from the Kaida Asagiri of the Ruby Sea, he tried to sever himself from the Gaius van Baelsar of Garlemald. But looking at him was like looking at a mystery. His eyes betrayed nothing. His face was placid. A calm collectedness. Gaze precise as daggers, cutting through every inch of her, pinning her and making her feel vulnerable. 

And then she thought of the Quicksand and the attack on it. She thought of the bodies and by kami, the _smell_. Kaida could never forget the smell. Not after all these years. Corpses run through and shot a needless amount of times. Noraxia’s crumpled body on the ground, lungs failing and spirit slipping away.

Her breath hitched and she drew her eyes slowly up to look at him. That had not been him but for all she knew, those had been his orders. Kami above, all the blood they had shed to spite each other in those days. She wondered if his hands would feel as hateful as his blade had felt.

His steps were heavy in the quiet, a foreboding sense about them. It let her mind wander to fearful places.

_Am I really doing this?_

The answer was yes and she could not believe herself.

If he felt awkward, he showed no sign of it. Carefully, Gaius took the bottle into hand, looking it over. She watched him in the mirror, swallowing a thick gathering of saliva that clogged her throat. He applied a small amount to his fingertips and gingerly reached out to her horn. The moment he touched her, she felt a surge of nerves light up in her body. It was electrifying, a strange shiver that was neither fear nor cold. A sudden, inexplicable spiral down her spine, it made her grip the cloth of her coat tightly. She suppressed it as best as she could, holding still and staring ahead. No eye contact. She was not sure she could handle it. 

He worked meticulously, each stroke languid and calm. His hands were warm and that cancelled out the polish’s chilled touch. A few rubs in and she could feel more heat in her face. She wanted to hate this but she couldn’t; she found herself sinking into the warmth of his palms and loving it. The Raen’s eyes fluttered closed, his fingers delicately gracing over each ridge in her horn. The way his touch trailed along was enticing, alighting her senses and focusing them on that spot. It was as if the rest of her had faded and she existed only where he touched her. A strange, delirious feeling but she embraced it. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest and she asked herself why that was the case. There was no answer she could find. 

“I didn’t mean to oversleep,” Kaida began to break the silence because she felt she was going to melt on the spot if she did not. “I know yesterday was… bad. But I did not mean to skip practice.”

“I believe you,” Gaius said after a moment of thought.

“You… do?” Kaida asked in surprise.

“Clearly, you are feeling unwell this morning. We can cancel the session today, if that pleases you.”

“I will not lie; I was expecting a lecture.”

“Hmph. Most seem to think that I’m only good for that these days. What ails you?”

“Err… An abundance of Lominsan rum?”

He paused and shot her a disapproving glare.

“A poor decision.”

“Very.”

“I am tempted to make you come to practice now.”

She gasped softly in indignation but it was hard to be mad as his fingers crested over the tip of her horn. Instead, she clamped her mouth shut, crimson infecting her cheeks despite how much she tried to will herself to be calm. Her skin danced with a tingling sensation all over her body. A sensation she did not understand.

“You wouldn’t dare…” began the Raen’s protest.

“I would,” Gaius smirked, his fingers trailing down a few of the horn’s natural prongs. “A lesson to not indulge in such foolish behavior.”

“I could just not show up,” Kaida began.

“I am already here,” Gaius pointed out.

“Are you suggesting we train in my bedroom?” Kaida asked.

“I was not but we could, if… you wanted,” Gaius replied, eyes narrowing slightly in uncertainty.

“You are ridiculous,” Kaida huffed. “A-and you’ve been polishing the same spot over and over again.”

He paused and she hated that he did. She wanted to take those words back and move his hand to the other horn, the one already polished. It did not sing in the same gleeful way as her right one did.

“Are you satisfied?” Gaius asked her, dropping his hand. She wished she had not jabbed at him.

“No,” Kaida said before she could stop herself and quickly found herself fumbling about as he quirked his brow at her. She turned to face him. “I-I know what this is. You’re trying to… what’s the phrase… butter me up.”

“I am not,” Gaius answered evenly.

“Then why…” she began.

“Astonishing as though it may sound, I do perform tasks out of altruism… on the occasion,” Gaius responded gruffly.

“You just want me to accept my part in all of this and to believe it,” Kaida started.

“I do want that but that is not why I did this,” Gaius shook his head.

“It won’t work. This strategy,” Kaida protested. “I still in believe what I said yesterday.”

A pause and a realization ran across the Raen’s mind.

“I… never heard from Krile yesterday.”

“That is because I did not tell her.”

“What?”

Gaius stared her down carefully, a slight apprehension in his gaze. He had not bothered to back up much since ceasing the horn polishing. They were close in proximity, the Garlean leaning slightly down to look her in the eye.

“I understand we have… a history of conflict. But I do respect you,” Gaius said simply. “And I respect Lady Tataru’s decision to place me as your mentor. I have decided to not tell Krile, so long as this pain is manageable. Since that is what you seem to wish.”

She fumbled for her next few words. He had not told Krile? Why? What did he have to gain from this? Was he hoping to please her? Was he hoping that the pain would overtake her and kill her? No… no, he had been nothing but friendly and helpful until now. He had gone through hell and back to save her. This much, Kaida knew and understood. But perhaps it was old habits dying hard that made her feel such trepidation. 

“I see,” Kaida said, finding no other response to give.

“We will cancel today,” Gaius repeated, stepping away from her. “I trust you will not drink so heavily in the future as to conflict with your training. Shirking your training in favor of a temporary bliss will find you no happiness in the future.”

“Poetic,” Kaida remarked, watching him move towards the door and feeling a deep dismay as he did. She did not want him to leave for… more reasons that she could not parse. Was it really true he had not told Krile? That thought mulled over and over in her mind.

“Please rest in the meantime. I expect you back in the training grounds tomorrow,” Gaius said and slipped out of the door.

When the door closed, Kaida found herself immediately drowning in a conflict of emotions. Fear of the Black Wolf of old. Shock that he had respected her wishes enough to not go speak with Krile. Sadness that he had left so abruptly when she was still deciphering her feelings. Confusion at the way she had felt at his touch. Guilt over their truce. Guilt again that she had spoken so harshly to him when he had saved her from the Garleans. Hurt as she remembered the Garlean campaign against Eorzea—the fight against Rhitatyn and Livia springing to mind to inflict more pain, twisting the knife in that wound. How he could look at her and not see their killer, she could not understand. 

But those emotions led nowhere, she knew. Nowhere good. She told herself to discard those hard feelings but she could not shake them. She feared she would never be able to. 

The inward hurricane of thoughts and feelings made her chuckle hollowly into the silence. How frail she felt these days, even in mind. There had only been one time that she had felt strong and level-headed, and that was when she had lifted Deathbringer into her hands. When she had felt the grooves of its hilt between her fingers, when her arms had borne its weight. Perhaps that was the key, she mused to herself. Holding a large sword in one’s hands made anyone felt clarity. Or madness. Or maybe a bit of both.

And that was when Kaida started devising a plan. It started off as a thought—fleeting. She knew where Deathbringer was. Gaius was a tough egg to crack but she did not doubt he was a creature of habit. He had kept her sword under his bed for a year now. There was no reason to move it. And of course, the thought crossed her mind that she could ask him if she could see the blade again. But that made her cringe. She did not want to give him any ideas that she was changing her mind. She did not want to give him the impression that he could be right—and that, she knew, was only out of her own stubbornness.

So what was there left to do?

_I’ll break into his room._

The thought came to mind so fast that it surprised her. She shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel the notion. What in the seven hells was she thinking? Break into his room to see her old sword again, all because she did not want him to get the wrong idea? All because she had her pride and her ego and she could not _stand_ the thought of him being smug in that quiet, stoic way of his.

She rubbed her forehead and found her way back to the bed. Her eyes skirted to the hair dye still sitting there, her fingers trailing through her mess of hair. She caught so many tangles in it that she felt her frustration swell. There was nothing more that she wanted to do than to hack all of the extra hair away. To feel that weight gone. One weight out of so many that bore her down.

Kaida looked away, a sharp exhale through her nostrils as she tried to breathe out her boiling anger. But what was any of this worth? Her hand on the sword’s hilt would tell her. As stupid as it sounded, that was the belief she clung to. That was the belief she would keep.

But this was not a mission that could be so easily done. If she were to do this without him noticing, she would need to learn his schedule. And so that became the next step, the one she would begin the very next day, when she arrived for their usual sparring session.

He was ready for her, of course. She found him swinging away at one of the dummies with a longsword, movements fluid and each strike precise. It was hard not to stare at him as she got ready, testing out a few of the swords on the rack before ultimately going back to the one styled the most like Deathbringer. She took the time to stretch, eyes wandering over to Gaius in time to see him cleave the dummy’s head off and then sigh. 

“Who fixes those when that happens?” she asked.

“Whichever recruit I find is lacking motivation,” Gaius said gruffly.

A smirk drew upon her lips. “I suppose I’m fortunate that you have not found my motivation so lacking.”

“Do not dare to tempt me,” he remarked and as soon as she was done stretching, he gestured to one of the non-headless dummies. “Warm up.”  
  
“Yes, yes, I know.”

“Good.”

Kaida swung her sword and his eyes were all over her. She did not have to look at him to know; she felt them. Judging every swing, every bit of her footwork. At first the Raen thought she was projecting her feelings from yesterday onto him but after a few minutes, she realized that there was a tension in the air. Kaida swallowed back her nerves, swinging a few more times before calling it good. She did not want to tire herself out this time. When she turned away, she caught his look.

“You used to use magic,” Gaius said at last. “Why take up a blade?”

Oh. That question. No one had asked her that in some time. The truth to it was strange. When the Sultana had been poisoned and everyone had believed her dead, it had been hard to continue using healing magic. She could not parse why, just that it had brought up old, bad feelings. Her failure as a shrine maiden back home had already tainted the old arts to her. And then having to flee to Ishgard was the final nail in the coffin.

Then she had met Fray. But Fray had not really been Fray. Not that it mattered; Fray had given her what she needed to carry on. There had been unspeakable rage and hurt in those days as they had taken shelter in the cold stoned walls of Ishgard. But Fray had known that rage, had told her to pick up the claymore and to swing it. Her arms had struggled at first but there was a satisfaction behind it. And that satisfaction had manifested a catharsis in her. A catharsis she grew drunk on and craved even then.

“I thought it would be more effective than a cane and some spell-slinging,” Kaida replied. “I was the Little Dragon of Eorzea, after all. Had to pick something to better protect everyone.”

“The cane seemed efficient,” Gaius said flatly.

“Truly?” Kaida asked. There was a sourness about his expression that brought a small, fleeting smile to her lips.

“But perhaps it was not for you,” Gaius replied. “This… new style you use. It incorporates _some_ magic. You have not used such against me in our spars.”

“S-should I have?” Kaida asked and he shrugged.

“If you should want to, I am not opposed,” Gaius replied. “Unless… you require the gem in order to do so?”

Her face burned. Oh no. Was this bait? Had he somehow discerned her plan, even though she had not dared utter a word to anyone about it? 

“The gem helps me understand the techniques better. But the ability to cast the spells is wholly within me. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the magic is intertwined with emotion,” Kaida replied carefully. “I—”

Something about that statement gave her a strange sense of deja-vu. She blinked through it, shaking her head and carrying on.

“I suppose if I am to train, then I should work on my magic as well.”

“Yes… that would be wise,” Gaius said. There was clear curiosity in his voice and Kaida narrowed her eyes at him.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing you should be concerned with.”

“That is making me _more_ concerned.”

“Fine. If you must know, you are chattier today than normal.”

“I…” Kaida balked. Chattier than normal? She realized he was right and a light blush formed in her cheeks. Self-consciously, the Raen ran her hand through her fringe, glancing away at him.

“Well, do not look into it too hard,” she said at last.

He smirked. “I did not mean to imply that was a bad thing. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Their blades clashed once more and Kaida instantly could feel her weakness. She shrugged it off as best as she could, slamming a hefty blow against his sword. He stepped back and the next hit, she felt him put a little more weight behind it. Kaida staggered back a few steps, arm flailing. Her eyes followed his sword as it jabbed towards her. She twisted out of its way, regaining her footing quickly.

As he pursued her, she back-pedaled. Her heart and brain worked in tandem, fighting to pull forth memories on how to be a Dark Knight. Trying to find that muscle memory. She reached into her emotions, grabbing at that latent sorrow and rage and tried to manifest it. But like sand between her fingers, it slipped away and nothing happened. His sword came down and she could only dodge it, gritting her teeth.

_Love. Love was the key. What do I love?_

Such a stupid question but on the fly, it was hard to find the answer. His next jab came and it grazed her shoulder. He followed up with a swing and she caught it barely with her blade, shoving him back. 

_Tataru. Think of protecting Tataru._

A flicker of dark fire ebbed at her fingertips and she fired it off at Gaius as he went in for another strike. He ducked under it, swung and stopped just short of cleaving her in the stomach. Kaida froze, looking at the practice sword as it hovered just an inch from her midsection. If this had been a real battle, he would have cleaved her in half.

“Better,” he praised quietly.

“Barely,” she remarked sourly.

“You are not near fainting after the first round,” Gaius said, backing up and gesturing for her to ready herself. “I would call that improvement. Though I can see already that you are tiring. We must get you on a regimen to increase your stamina.”

“Surely you don’t mean something inane like running laps…” Kaida began.

“As a matter of fact, I was,” Gaius replied. “Surely the Warrior of Light does not balk at a bit of running…?”

The lightness in his tone. The mockery. The telltale curve of his mouth into a smirk. She felt her face redden again, blossoming with warmth. There was an undeniable flutter in her chest. She wanted to dislike it. She wanted to dislike that look he was giving her. But all she could do was shrug and get ready for the next round.

Unsurprisingly, the next round was similar to the first, though Kaida was able to dig up enough emotion to shoot out a spiked orb at Gaius. Another easy dodge for him but his surprise was evident in his face. Kaida let a laugh escape her mouth, heart rising with hope and glee. She let herself get too cocky however, and he soundly forced her to the ground. The tip of his fake sword rested just below her chin, tilting her head up at him. Gaius shook his head.

“The spell was well done,” he said. “The… _giddiness_ afterwards left you open.”

“Oh shut it,” Kaida grumbled.

By the time that noon arrived, she was both exhausted and elated that she had been able to dig out some of her old Dark Knight arts. It was still difficult without the soul crystal but she did not dare bring it up in fear he would pursue that route once more. As Gaius put away their swords, she caught a brief smile on his face. Soft, thoughtful, aimed at nothing in particular. On a face that seemed built for stoic stares, it was a strange sight. But it made part of her smile too, though she masked it by rubbing her nose.

“Tomorrow, we will work on stamina,” Gaius said to her before they departed. “So I would brace yourself for that. It will not be difficult. We have yet to be at this for a week yet.”

“Understood,” Kaida replied. She caught him staring at her horns and that brought back memories from yesterday. Swallowing, the Raen averted her gaze, resting her hands in the pockets of her coat. “I will see you later, I suppose.”

“Get some more rest,” Gaius said with the dip of his head and the Raen departed.

The trip back down the stairs was a thoughtful one. She mulled over her idea to go find Deathbringer once more, the thought sending pinpricks of fear across her body but enticing her with a thrill. It was obvious the best time to go try it was when Gaius was in a meeting—which happened frequently in the afternoon, particularly with Tataru and Estinien. If only she could figure out when the next one was… even if this was a bad idea, Kaida knew that by doing it, she would have some measure of clarity. And maybe even some closure.

_Somehow, this feels like playing into his hands. But that’s why I must do this alone. Without anyone’s judging eyes. Without anyone’s expectations of me._

Kaida Asagiri was finally feeling confident enough to go through with the plan when, of course, fate decided to rear its head. She made it to the residential district of the Stilled Ice and quickly realized that a note was on her door. It was a simple message, scribbled in Tataru’s lovely handwriting.

“Meeting tomorrow at the 2nd bell passed noon. I would like for you to start attending these meetings now, if you are feeling well enough for it. There’s a lot you probably want to know about the war effort and I’m happy to fill you in! - Tataru”

She plucked the paper off of the door, her hands slightly crunching its sides. Rising nervousness began to stir in her stomach. Attend meetings? That felt like more than she could handle when she could barely stand to meet with her own emotions. And Tataru wanted her to attend regularly? Odds were these meetings were the same ones Gaius was attending… The Raen’s palm met her face and she cringed with realization. Skipping out would raise eyebrows. But attending meant she could not go get Deathbringer. 

_The simple solution is to suffer their judgmental stares when I do not show up. But Tataru is depending on me… Disappointing her is near the worst sin imaginable… but I need to do this. I need to get the sword. And if this is anything, it’s the kami telling me when I must strike._

She looked at the time on the note once more and sucked in a breath.

_I am sorry Tataru. But some things take priority over a stuffy meeting._

* * *

The hanger was mostly empty except for Estinien and Krile readying a speeder for travel. N’anrih had been selected to go with them and was already lounging in the pilot’s seat with her feet up on the dash—something that was making Nero angrier by the minute though the blond said nothing to the miqo’te. All he did was shoot her disbelieving looks, as though her crimes were greater than words could express. Gaius stifled his smirk at the exchange.

“Come to see us off, have you?” Estinien asked Gaius.

“I thought I might,” the Black Wolf replied casually. “If only to give you one more lecture that I expect you back hale and whole in the matter of a few days.”

“Fear not. Miss Baldesion has decided to accompany me the entire way and I cannot fathom she will let me come to harm,” Estinien retorted with a wry smile. “Harm that does not originate from her, of course.”

“ ‘Tis true,” N’anrih remarked. “He’s more like to get a whoppin’ from her than the Garleans.”

Gaius snorted. “Then mayhaps I ought to plead with her to give you leniency.”

“Plead all you would like, Commander,” Krile said dismissively. “But that shan’t change much. I have strict orders from Tataru to make sure he does not do anything foolish.”

“I only ask if he should feel your wrath that he have rightly earned it. And he likely shall,” Gaius replied lightly.

“Unhelpful but what else should I expect from you?” Estinien lamented with a rueful smile. “While I am gone, pray do not get into any more trouble than you normally do. No more diving into castrums to rescue fair maids—be they famed warriors or not. Not until I have returned, at the least. As I said to you once, to lose one of us would be devastating to the cause. But to lose both…”

“Are _you_ lecturing _me_ now?” Gaius blinked at him. “Do us both a favor and leave such worrying to me.”

“And let you grey faster?” Estinien smirked and Gaius scowled at him. The elezen shook his head. “I intend not to die on this mission nor anytime soon. But I am no fool. I understand the risks. If I should not return, I entrust everything to you.”

“When we free all of Hydaelyn, you will be there to witness it,” Gaius said sternly. “I will not entertain the thought of any alternative.”

“How optimistic of you,” Estinien remarked. “Tataru’s influence, no doubt.”

“We ought to be off,” Krile said. “I have my linkpearl here. If anything goes awry, I will message you and Tataru both, Commander. Until we have returned, pray keep all members of the Rebellion within the Stilled Ice. I hope we do not even _see_ the Hopebreaker…”

“Be safe,” Gaius said to the three of them as they took their seats in the speeder.

“We will,” Krile reassured him with a small smile.

“Do not bring back my speeder damaged,” Nero chimed in from where he had just finished inspecting the speeder’s hull. “Or I will ask Tataru to take it out of your paychecks.”

“What paychecks?” N’anrih remarked and the blond narrowed his eyes at her.

“And _feet off the dash if you would please_ ,” Nero said angrily and the miqo’te obliged with a surprised look on her face.

“Take care of Tataru while we are gone,” Estinien said as N’anrih turned on the speeder’s engines. “And try not to fret _too_ much.”

They were off soon after, the hanger’s massive door opening and the speeder spilling out into the snow fields. Gaius watched until the hanger’s door closed back up, sealing them in silence and dim light. He glanced to Nero, who had a pensive look on his face. Nero took off his sunglasses, tucking them into the collar of his shirt. A wide grin soon formed on the blond’s face as he looked at Gaius, crossing his arms over his chest with a deviousness about him.

“What?” Gaius asked.

“I had the most intriguing experience the other day,” Nero declared. “Did you know… the Warrior of Light is a _rum_ kind of person? And an absolute _comedian_ when intoxicated.”

Gaius’s eyes narrowed to slits. No question. Just a stare.

“She seemed to be quite distraught however. I fail to understand what you said to her but I found her with enough alcohol in hand to knock a Sea Wolf off his feet,” Nero continued with a shrug. “Quite impressive! Though, I suppose not the first time you have driven someone to drinking.”

“And why are you telling me this?” Gaius asked flatly.

“ ‘Tis not a good look to find a drunk Warrior of Light hanging about above my hanger, particularly after her sparring practice,” Nero said simply. “Now, fear not, I was the proper gentleman and escorted her back to her room. I think only a handful of people saw her in such a state-- you may, in fact, thank me for that later.”

“I think she learned her lesson,” Gaius replied shortly, thinking of her hangover the day before and the misery written on her face. “But I _thank you_ for your concern… and for escorting her back.”

“My pleasure, Lord Gaius,” Nero responded with a wide grin. “Now please do me a favor and refrain from making anyone else into drunks atop my hanger. I dare say it gives me little hope that we have a chance at victory. And it makes for a mess if they puke.”

“It was not my intention to drive her to drinking,” Gaius sighed. “But I will keep such in mind, Nero.”

“Excellent!” Nero smiled. “Ah… before you go, there was one thing I wanted to speak with you about. Lady Tataru did divulge to me that there was a sighting of a Garlean among our potential allies to the south. One with white hair, no less.”

Ah, right. The possible sighting of Cid. With everything else going on, that piece of information had been stored safely away for later. When Kaida was recovered and Ifrit slain. The Black Wolf’s eyes shifted to Nero, a strangely grave expression on the blond’s face. An expression that did not befit his usual smugness. But that was how Nero always was when someone mentioned Cid. A more reserved, pensive soul. Strange were the ways that grief affected people, Gaius mused darkly.

“I know this is a matter you will not put to rest until you know the truth. I have but one request,” Nero continued. “That you permit me to go with you.”

“Lady Tataru will not like that,” Gaius began.

“And I care not,” Nero pressed with a dismissive hand wave. “I would know the truth, however, what happened to Garlond in this long year. We both know he yet lives. He simply _must_.”

“Nero,” Gaius said, voice quietening. “Many died who ought to have lived.”

“And Garlond was not one of them,” Nero said firmly.

Gaius opened his mouth to continue but he found himself pausing. An anchor in his chest bore any words he had to say back down into the depths of his throat. How naïve it was to think that there were some who were untouchable. The madness of war and destruction knew no discrimination. People that had yet to live full lives died daily. Illogically. Inexplicably. Here one moment, gone the next—the space in between so fleeting that one could blink and miss it all. And then there was naught left to do but grieve.

He remembered a time that the XIVth legion had seemed untouchable. Livia, untouchable. Rhitahtyn, untouchable. Ricon. Rex. Milisandia. Allie. Alphonse. They mocked such thoughts from the grave. How Nero could have survived all that he had and still not learned, Gaius did not understand. But maybe more years under his belt would temper his optimism.

“You may come,” Gaius said at last. “But I will not shield you from the Antecedent’s wrath.”

“You need not do so,” Nero replied. “And I thank you for this. It... has been some time since we have ventured together outside of these walls.”

A touch of nostalgia to his voice. A bit of longing. Some habits never died, Gaius thought, reflecting back to Nero and Livia’s feuds years ago. They had always wanted to please him, scrambling over each other for their liege’s favor. Such seemed so foolish in the current day. Now Livia was buried and they were no longer subordinate and superior. Gaius hoped Nero remembered that.

“It has,” Gaius said softly, a bittersweet taste on his tongue and a distance in his eyes.


	12. Awareness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much-needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added tags: Cid nan Garlond.

The next day’s training came before Kaida had mentally prepared herself for it. Gaius had insisted she run a few laps around the training grounds to start building her stamina. Though Kaida protested, her feeble attempts to deflect his reasoning had landed her only scornful looks and a slightly amused smirk. A few laps were run and though the Raen’s lungs were screaming, Gaius had little sympathy. He shoved the practice claymore into her hands and within a few seconds, the Raen was flat on her back with the Garlean standing over her. The tip of his dulled sword softly grazed under her chin and he shook his head at her disapprovingly.

She wanted to throw a jeer at him that he had not bothered to join her in running laps but she knew that was a futile endeavor. He was unshakeable and she knew jabs would only entice him to make her run more laps. Kaida thought about refusing but she knew that would likely land her nowhere good either.

The training was another series of beat downs, and by the time they were done, the Raen was distinctly sore on her left flank from all the times he had managed to trip her. At least he had helped her up every time and had begun doing his best to catch her before she fell. She wanted to protest the gesture but after the fifth fall, she found his hand snatching her wrist to be a much more welcome alternative than hitting the cold ground.

But the training was done before long and though she was sore, she was very much aware that she had things she absolutely had to do before parting ways with the commander. As he put away their swords, she trailed after him. Kaida struggled how to word her question without sounding too forward before realizing she could not figure out a better way to go about this.

“I have a meeting at two bells past noon with Tataru,” Kaida began, mustering up a light, innocent tone. “W-will you be there?”

He glanced back at her over his shoulder.

“Yes.” Spoken evenly. Not a trace of scrutiny. Had being forward been the way to go? Maybe being this forward was good—he would not suspect a thing. 

But her nerves were still alight and the next words came out thoughtlessly. “Good. I hope to see you later, then.”

He hesitated, a strange gleam in his eyes. The next bit from him was laced with restrained intrigue. “You… as well.”

It was not until Kaida was down the stairs that she realized what she had said and how she had sounded. Face turning a deep shade of crimson, she quickly moved along to the dining hall. Lunch would be had first then when she was certain Gaius had departed for the meeting, she would go to the residential area. 

The hour came faster than she anticipated. Lunch was something she found she could barely touch from her own nervousness. She was careful to slip out of the dining hall quickly so that no one would spot her skipping out on Tataru, hiding for a few minutes in her bedroom before cracking the door open. A gander to the left and right saw the area mostly deserted. This time of day, even the maids were not tending to this place, instead working on the other facilities within the Stilled Ice. 

Kaida stole her way down the hall with a heartbeat drumming a hefty tempo in her chest and a fear buzzing in her mind that somehow she had gotten the time wrong. She would open the door and find him there, staring at her with those pale eyes of his, wondering what she was up to. And then assuming it was the sword. Which, he would be right. And she would be forced to lie because her pride still could not take it.

Gaius’s door was in sight before long and Kaida reached for the doorknob with her breath imprisoned in her lungs. The metal was cold to the touch but so was everything in the Stilled Ice. She turned the knob and found it… locked. The Raen blinked in surprised. Locked? Locked!? She hadn’t accounted for that. Why would he lock it? Who would steal anything from Gaius Baelsar—the Black Wolf, the Commander of the Wild Rose Rebellion, easily the most terrifying person on the premises…!?

She let her hand drop to her side, panic falling over her like a deluge. Cold sweat gathered at her brow. What was she going to do now? She had skipped that meeting for nothing and she could already hear Tataru’s disappointed voice ringing about in her mind. Kaida swallowed down some of her fear as she stepped away, casting a frightened look about before fleeing his doorstep. All the while her mind raced and her heart fluttered, feet directing her past her own door down the hall and further still.

A locked door, a locked door… How could she have not seen this coming? And now she felt as though she had blown her chance. 

Kaida fled down one of the back halls, slipping into a storage room that she soon realized connected to the back of the kitchen. It was quiet here and she thought it a good place to sit and try to come up with the next step to her plan. So she did, sitting next to where the chef kept some of his spare cutlery. Her back leaned against the cold wall, misery brooding.

 _Just ask him about the sword. Ask him to see it again. You have been around him enough to see that he is a reasonable sort. He honored your wish before and did not tell Krile, after all_ , whispered the more logical side of herself.

And yet it was the fearful part of her that answered. _He’s just going to push his expectations on me. It’s… it’s not what I need. I just need a moment. By myself. To breathe. Absorb everything that’s happened. And I can do that if I have the sword._

…

_But did you ever need the sword to do that? Isn’t the sword just an excuse? You’ll pick it up and you will think you will have that clarity. But in reality, you are scraping for things to lean on. You know what you seek is beyond those memories you do not want to remember._

…

_I can’t remember. I can’t do that to myself._

…

_You know it would bring you clarity. But you are afraid of the pain that will come with it. Look at yourself. You are sitting in a pantry nearly crying because there was a door that was locked. When did you become so fragile? When did **we** …?_

That inward voice sounded familiar but before she could identify it, footsteps at the door alerted her. A second later, the door swung open and Kaida’s watery eyes drifted to the lalafellin chef as he wandered in. He paused as soon as he saw her, staring keenly. And then he wandered over to a pantry, stepping up a ladder, and grabbing a bottle. Wordlessly, he came back down and handed it to her. She accepted it, bewildered. Turning the bottle over in her hand, she realized it was more of the Lominsan rum. The chef nodded to her and then departed.

 _The last time I drank this, I think I almost died,_ Kaida thought to herself, popping the cork off anyways. It occurred to her that she had drank this bottle and the hangover was what had given her this idea to break into Gaius’s room in the first place. Maybe a taste of its burning liquid would remind her why this was necessary.

She drank some to remind herself. And then a bit more. And then more after that because she realized that she was a glutton for poor decision-making and this rum tasted too painfully good to put down. When the buzz hit, she leaned back and rubbed her forehead, fingertips gracing over her pearlescent scales with thought. 

_I need to get into the room. But there’s no window. And I don’t have a key to the door. Who would know the next step?_

Kaida lifted the bottle to her lips. Her answer came out of nowhere in her tipsy state, a familiar voice echoing in her mind.

_"If you should find yourself compelled to down an entire bottle of Lominsan rum once more, I would have you hide in my office rather than sit on such a precarious ledge. And bring enough to share.”_

She gasped mid-drink, sputtering and dissolving into a coughing fit. Nero. Of course Nero was the answer to all of this. He had been part of Gaius’s posse; he would know how to get into Gaius’s room. He was a crafty sort as well, he likely had a solution for this. All she needed was proper motivation. 

The door opened and through her bleary eyes, she could see the chef shooting her an inquisitive look, as if to ask if she was all right. Kaida nodded, wiping away tears from her eyes. She cleared her throat.

“C-chef… Um… d-do you have another of these?” the Raen asked, pointing at the bottle.

The lalafellin chef narrowed his eyes in concern.

“I require it. F-for someone,” Kaida said and the lalafell sighed and plucked another one from the shelf. He handed it to her and the Raen smiled at him. “Thank you. I-I will make it up to you! I promise!”

The lalafell had an amused smile when he left, waving over his shoulder as he walked away. Kaida took both bottles and snuck out of the back door. She felt more than exposed to the judgment of any passerbys as she made her way towards the Stilled Ice’s hanger. A few maids tossed her bizarre looks, to which she hurried on by with a slight sway to her step. No doubt this would get back to Tataru but she was _desperate_ at this point and frankly she felt she had no other options left. 

She took a swig as she neared the hanger, marching for Nero’s office and burst through the door with no warning. Nero was thankfully in his chair, bolting upright when the Raen came thundering in. Kaida looked him dead in the eye, setting the unopened bottle in front of him with a grave expression. His gaze flitted between the bottle and the buzzed Au Ra in front of him, his shock slowly evolving into confused delight mixed with interest. 

“So, what is all of this?” Nero asked with that grin of his already spreading across his face.

“Nero. I need you to help me break into Gaius Baelsar’s room,” Kaida declared and Nero immediately erupted into laughter.

After mostly regaining his composure, he took the bottle and a cork opener from inside his desk and uncorked the bottle. Nero lifted it to his nose and gave a small sniff before nodding in approval. He poured himself a small glass, glancing at her over his shoulder.

“And why do you need in Gaius Baelsar’s room?” Nero asked, the question fringed with the remnants of his laughter.

“I cannot tell you,” Kaida said firmly. “But I need in there. And without him knowing.”

Nero took a sip from his glass, nose wrinkling slightly before giving the liquor another approving nod. “I am afraid I cannot help unless I have more reason to suspect you are not in there to do something dastardly to my dear friend.”

“Dastardly…? What? No,” Kaida shook her head. “I had no intentions of something like that.”

“Kaida,” Nero said with a ‘tsk’. “I understand we are all on the same side here but do not color me a fool. I know you and him have bad blood. So unless you can tell me why…?”

“Shut up,” Kaida snapped, wagging an unsteady finger at him. “You just want to know why because you are a filthy gossip and we both know that, Nero Scaeva.”

He grinned. “Mayhaps. But I will still not budge until I am certain you are doing something relatively harmless. Because oh yes, I can get you inside. I can get you inside anywhere within our lovely abode. But I do need a reason to use this power. And ‘because I said so’, will simply not suffice.” 

“Fine. I want my sword,” Kaida said.

“And you… cannot _ask_ Gaius for it?” Nero asked.

“It is complicated,” Kaida began uneasily. “I just want… I wanna see the sword. By myself. If that is _agreeable_ to you, Nero.”

“It is,” Nero said. “But I will not lie, I am curious as to why.”

“Speculate to your heart’s content; you will get no answer from me,” Kaida retorted. “How can you get me into the room?”

Nero smirked slyly and reached into his desk, pulling out a small magitek machina. The machina was made to resemble a spider, with a rounded central body and several legs splintering off of it. It skittered about on his desk and Kaida wrinkled her nose at it disdainfully. Two of its legs reached up, one’s tip unfurling slightly to display what appeared to be a lock pick. Nero finished off his small glass of rum and set it down on the desk with a thud. He reached down and scooped the machina up.

“An invention that I was meaning to present to Lady Tataru,” Nero explained. “A beneficial magitek that can help us break into places the Empire most certainly would not want us to break into.”

“It will work on the door?” Kaida asked with a slight slur to her speech.

“It ought to. These are not exactly the most high-tech locks,” Nero said. “I only ask that I come with you. Just to ensure that you do not drop the machina, of course.”

“Deal,” Kaida said with a nod.

And like two giddy bandits about to plunder a treasure trove, they stole their way back to the residential hall. Nero kept a hand on her as she stumbled along and Kaida absent-mindedly sipped on her bottle with brewing nerves and anxiety bubbling in her chest and stomach. Either that or the alcohol was simply not setting well. Regardless, she continued forward, grip on the neck of the bottle tightening. 

When she was once again at Gaius’s door, she felt her stomach twist into a knot so tight that she felt as though she were going to be sick. Nero stepped up, letting the magitek device crawl from his open palm to the doorknob. It pulled out the lock once more and began its work, chirping merrily all the while.

“I should’ve muted that,” Nero mused aloud then tossed her a glance. “You look ill, Lady Asagiri. Perhaps the rum does not agree with you? Or maybe you’re here for something more than your sword…”

His mouth twisted into a smirk and Kaida felt that knot in her stomach tighten even further.

“Definitely nothing you’re thinking of,” the Raen countered with a wistful sip. 

The lock clicked and Nero opened the door with one hand, using the other to collect the machina. They both stepped in with Kaida closing the door behind her. Gaius’s bedchamber was, of course, quite sparsely filled. There were a few items on cabinets, nothing she had really paid much attention to. Everything seemed to be necessities, she noticed. A dresser on one side. A wardrobe on the other. A small table with a few miscellaneous items, a magitek teapot included. Her eyes moved to the bed. Under it was where Deathbringer had been sitting for most of the last year. 

“Now, if you get caught for one reason or another, I trust you understand not to rat out your help?” Nero asked her.

“Not a word,” Kaida nodded. “And thank you, Nero.”

He flashed her a grin. “Do invite me the next time you decide to do something this amusing. It certainly makes my days more interesting.” 

And then he was off, shutting the door behind him and leaving her alone in the silence. Kaida’s eyes turned back to the bed immediately and she rushed towards it. Hands trembling, she made it to the bedside, kneeling down. The floor was cold but she did not care. Reaching beneath the bed, she felt around for the large container he had kept it in. Her fingers found air and she scooted even closer to the bed, pressing her shoulder into its frame. When she could not find anything, Kaida opted instead to peer below.

There was nothing underneath. A gasp tore from her mouth and the Raen fervently began grabbing about the dusty darkness to make certain her eyes had not betrayed her. No. No sword. He had moved it. He had to have. But where?

She bumped her head on the way out from under the bed, wincing in the process. Rubbing her scalp, she began vigorously searching Gaius’s bedchambers. She went to the wardrobe, flinging the doors open. A collection of long coats dwelled inside, some belonging with armor, she did not doubt. As she rifled through them, reaching behind the clothing to see if the container was somehow stored there, it crossed her mind that this was wrong. Incredibly wrong. But her heart drummed panic for her blade. And if she could not find it soon, she feared she never would. A deliriously frightened thought.

Kaida drank the rum as her gaze skirted all about his quarters. She checked the dresser next despite knowing it was too short to hold her sword. And then the bathroom, praying that he had stored it in the shower for some reason or another. Nothing. It was nowhere to be found.

Footsteps directly outside the door ceased her search. Eyes snapping wide in horror, she heard the unmistakable sound of someone clear his throat. There was the jingle of keys. She bolted without thinking—her destination being the wardrobe. The Raen stumbled, nearly dropping the bottle in the process as she flung the doors open. She crawled inside. No second thoughts, only an alcohol-ridden panic. Kaida lost herself in the fluff of the coats, shutting the twin doors quickly to seal herself in darkness. The sound of her heart was so loud she could barely hear the lock take the key and the doorknob twist. A creak of the door let her know she was not alone. And then came the heavy footsteps.

* * *

Another waste of a meeting. Nothing from Krile or Estinien yet meant there was little to discuss. More or less Tataru’s aim for their meeting had been to introduce Kaida to the inner workings of the Rebellion but that had fallen through when the Raen had opted to not show up for the meeting. Tataru suggested that perhaps Kaida had fallen asleep after her training, which Gaius was slightly inclined to agree with but something sat uncomfortably in his stomach about it. She had seemed quite excited about the meeting but perhaps that excitement had been overridden by exhaustion from the laps she had run. He sighed, unbuckling Heirsbane’s sheath from his back and setting it atop his dresser. Perhaps he was to share some of the blame for her absence but it would be the Warrior of Light who got Tataru’s tongue-lashing.

He stripped off his coat with the intentions of changing into something more comfortable than his usual commander’s attire but a small thump made him freeze. His pale eyes cut in its direction, hand straying towards Heirsbane. Another thump. His pupils focused in on the wardrobe. Someone was inside—a thought confirmed with a third thump. 

Heirsbane came into hand, drawn and his finger lightly on the trigger. While he did not delude himself into thinking the Emperor was foolish enough to send a _loud_ assassin to murder him, he understood well enough that anything unknown at this point was a threat. One hand seized the doorknob and he threw open the door. Heirsbane pointed forward and Gaius prepared himself to pull the trigger.

A gasp came out—soft and feminine. Definitely not belonging to an assassin. He stared into the darkness, the shape of a cowering Raen slowly taking shape. She was partially concealed by his coats, trying to hide her face in one of them. Kaida, he realized with a sigh. So _this_ was where their missing hero had ended up?

With a displeased grunt in his voice, Gaius sheathed his weapon and held out his hand. A commanding bark rang out, voice tired. “ _Out_.”

She grabbed his hand and he pulled her out of the wardrobe, acutely aware of the whiff of alcohol emanating from her and her lack of steadiness on her feet. Kaida’s right hand groped the muscle of his upper arm for stability as she endeavored to regain her footing. When she did at last stand up straight, his eyes moved immediately to an empty bottle of rum she was still clinging onto. Gaius rubbed his scruff in disbelief. Again? She was doing this _again?_ He did not let go of her.

“Why were you in there?” he asked her sternly.

“I…” Kaida fumbled, panic in her eyes growing and her words blending together. “I uh… I _ahem_ … I got lost.”

“I doubt that,” he said, thinking to let go of her arm but not—only because she had begun squirming and he was mildly convinced she would run from the question rather than answer it.

“I was really hoping you wouldn’t notice…” Kaida began, tugging her arm a little bit curiously, testing his grip on her. “But I kept… I kept b-bumping… my tail got caught and… I-I am sorry… I know this looks bad. Really, really, really bad. And it… probably is. But I promise I did not come here to look through your clothes.”

He narrowed his gaze at her. “I care not about that. You were supposed to be at the meeting today. Who gave you that bottle? You’re not supposed to be drinking. You are still _recovering_.”  
  
“The cook. He’s a nice sort. Gave me two,” Kaida confessed. “But I only drank one. I swear.”

Gaius scowled at her. “I appreciate your honesty. You are drunk. Someone ought to take you to bed.”

“H-how forward!” Kaida stammered with a hiccup, cheeks rosy in tone.

His brow furrowed. “That is _not_ what I was inferring. Come. Off to bed with you and preferably before Lady Tataru sees you in this state and has a fit.”

“No, wait… wait, wait, wait…” Kaida stammered. “I came here for a reason. Believe me!”

It was very hard to believe her when she reeked like a Lominsan pirate ship and swayed like a tree in a gale. Gaius quirked his brow at her, staring down with his judgment etched clearly on his features. She wriggled and he released her. Fine then. If she had a case she could plead, he would hear it. Even if it was drunken babbling nonsense.

“Out with it,” he said to her.

“I came here for my sword,” Kaida admitted and Gaius’s brows rose. 

“Then you have changed your mind?” Gaius asked carefully, daring not to sound too hopeful.

“No! No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kaida shook her head. “I haven’t changed my mind about anything. I just wanted to see it again. I wanted to… to hold it.”

“And you… chose _now_ to do this?” Gaius asked.

“I-I… well… I wanted some privacy,” Kaida began.

“You could have _asked_ for that,” Gaius pointed out and the Raen’s face brimmed red in a mixture of drunkenness and… Rage? No. Not rage. There was a glassiness about her eyes. Embarrassment?

“But I didn’t want to,” Kaida retorted and Gaius sighed at her. “I didn’t want you to think you were right, okay? Because… because you’re not! I just want to hold the sword and it’s mine and I should get to.”

“You are drunk,” Gaius stated.

“I would have done it sober but I panicked,” Kaida began.

“That is not helping your case at the moment,” Gaius said, traces of anger rising in his voice. He stepped forward, bearing down upon her with little mercy in his heart or eyes. “I understand you are hurting. I understand they did terrible things to you. Things that… you recall more of than you would like to admit.”

Fear flashed across her eyes. He reached down, both hands on her shoulders. No escape for her. Not this time. He had let her go the last time out of respect. This time, he respected her enough to know that she needed to hear these words. She needed to learn how to carry on.

“It is natural to mourn. Natural to grieve what was lost. But I beg of you to cease this foolishness. You are hurting only yourself,” he continued in a gruff voice.

“… And what do you know about how I feel?” Kaida began. “You barely know me at all.”

“That is not true,” Gaius replied. “I know you well enough to know that this is not who you are. And I know you well enough to know that you do not like the person you are in this moment.”

Her emerald eyes fell upon him in scrutiny, filling with tears. Despite her drunkenness, there was a sharpness about her. She defended herself like a porcupine, Gaius noted sourly. She bristled at the first sign of aggression from anyone around her. And she roared like a wyrm when angry. No wonder they had called her Eorzea’s Little Dragon. All she wanted to do was spit fire and snarl.

“You know, Baelsar, I liked it better when you monologued,” the Raen growled.

He could not stop the vexed sigh that whisked out of his mouth. “Enough of that. Please rest. Use my bed if you feel unwell enough to make it down the hall. We can discuss your sword when you have sobered up. I trust no drunken hands with a claymore of such power.”  
  
Kaida huffed. “I’ve been resting for the last year, lest you’ve forgotten.”

“You understand my meaning,” he chided her, voice softening slightly.  
  
“Yes but,” the Raen sighed. “It’s frustrating. I mean _everything_ is frustrating.”

“How do you mean?” Gaius asked.  
  
“You would not understand—”  
  
“I will make an effort to do so.”

She paused, narrowing her gaze at him. “I don’t understand you.”

“What do you not understand?”  
  
“Why don’t you hate me?”

Gaius paused, not sure how to answer that question.

“It’s fine to focus on the now. But everything that happened before, it all led up to this. It all mattered,” Kaida said. “The hopes we had back then. The battles we fought. The people we…” A hesitation. “… _killed_. Can’t take those things back.”

“I will never ask you to forgive me for my past transgressions,” came his careful reply. “I am unworthy of mercy. I have known that for years. And I will not ask you to apologize for what ills you have done towards me.”

“I killed them, Gaius.”

His stomach churned, jaw stiffening. Her eyes drew up to meet his—so bright, so lively, so drunk, and yet so honest.

“Your kids. Livia. Rhitahtyn. I killed them,” the Raen said, words slurred slightly. “And that’s a fact.”

Another pause.

“You can’t look at me the way you do. Like I didn’t do it. And like you did not conquer those lands and do those awful things. Like you would not have put a bullet between my eyes back in Praetorium. Like I would not have done the same to you,” Kaida continued on, voice breaking. “Those feelings do not die…”

“You do not mean that,” Gaius said keenly. “You are drunk, Kaida.”

“I do,” Kaida protested with the slight stamp of her foot. “I-I do…”

He did not believe her.

“What we did in those years was out of necessity. I grieve for Livia and Rhitahtyn and it is true that it was by your hand that they fell,” Gaius began. “But given what you faced, I cannot blame you for it. Let history call me a cruel father for it. It will surely call me worse and be right.”

Her eyes glistened with tears that she was trying to hold back and hide. He averted his gaze for her sake, looking instead at the bed post. Livia and Rhitahtyn were gone and no amount of hatred or anger could bring them back. They died as casualties in a fool’s war. And he would never stop thinking of them. Them and the others who had passed on.

“Any animosity I had towards you died in Praetorium’s flames. My life was forfeited then. It remains forfeit even now,” Gaius continued. “I can understand, however, if you still despise me.”

“I…” Kaida shifted. “It would be easy to.”

Hesitation and he saw the tears build in her eyes even more.

“But I don’t.”

A soft confession. Tearful. She found her way to his bed, sitting down. Soft twin cascades from her eyes splashed onto her lap. He stared at her now, rooted to the spot. 

“I tried to. The kami know I’ve tried. I tried to hate you. I tried to not hope. But then the sword… the sword…” the Raen said, voice shattering. “It reminded me of what it could all be. It reminded me of who I could be. I said it was all frustrating and that is what I meant. So many feelings. Nothing making sense. And then the thought of your smug smile if I were to ask you to see Deathbringer again…”

“My… smile,” Gaius began incredulously. “I can endeavor not to smile, if that would spare you such grief.”

“I-I…” Kaida faltered. “N-no, it’s not… it was a stupid thought. Your smile is fine.”

“It… is fine?” Gaius asked, disbelief soon replaced with growing amusement. Perhaps she was drunker than she realized.

Flustered, Kaida combed her fingers through her bangs, dodging his look. “You understand what I mean, Baelsar.”

“If all of this was because of your sword, then I… apologize,” Gaius said. “That you felt unable to come to me for it is clearly a mark against how I have been treating you.”

“N-no, it’s… it’s not that…” Kaida began.

“Listen,” he commanded softly, firmly. “After you dropped the sword, I had it sent to one of our blacksmiths to ensure it was not damaged. It should be back on the morrow. I would gladly let you see it again, if that is your wish.”

“I… I would like to. Alone,” Kaida said uncertainly. “W-would you allow that?”

“Yes,” Gaius replied after a moment of consideration.

“That easy…” Kaida began then chuckled, wiping away one of her tears with the back of her hand. “I am a fool.”

“You are someone who has survived much,” Gaius said. “And you must learn not only how to fight once more but to navigate your feelings. It is a long journey but you need not take the most difficult path.”

“What are you saying?” Kaida asked.

“You burden yourself unnecessarily,” Gaius answered simply. “And you need look no further than this moment for evidence of such.”

A soft sag in her shoulders, a guilty look aimed at the floor. This was a lesson she needed to learn. He was pleased that she had finally learned it, however painful it was. It was no mystery where her behavior would land her. She had opted to put on a mask but she had to have known at some point, the mask had to come off. The charade had to end. And if she did not pull herself together, the world would truly see her for what she was. Not the strong Warrior of Light but a broken husk that refused mending. 

“That is not to say that the road ahead will be easy. It will not be. And if you are content to wither away as a bitter shell of your former self, then I will let you have your wish. But we both know you do not want that,” Gaius continued. “So there is no point in pretending. You claim you tried not to hope? That can only mean you _failed_.”

“I wanted not to but I… I hoped once, Baelsar,” Kaida said quietly. “A year ago. Look where it got us.”

“You hoped once,” Gaius nodded in agreement. “And you will do so again.”

She had no other choice. Did she realize that now? The wheels were in motion, he could see them in her sad eyes. She was _already_ hoping, already thinking of the sword and how it felt to wield it. Already thinking of a brighter tomorrow. Showing her Deathbringer had been the best thing he could have ever done for her. But he dared not say that. Not after the comment about his smug smile.

What an _odd_ reason to go through all of this.

“But it’s… hard,” Kaida began. 

“It is,” Gaius acknowledged.

“I do not know if I can do it.”

“You can.”

“I may fail again.”

“You may.”

“You’re… you’re not helping!”

“Am I not?” Gaius asked, a slight growl to his voice. “You are fearful and I am telling you that your fears could be realized. Would you rather I sugarcoat it? Would you rather I tell you that this will all be easy?”

“N-no…” Kaida huffed, dodging his eyes.

“Look at me,” Gaius said to her and she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. He leaned forward. “You need no… _monologue_ from me. You already know what you must do. You may be at war with yourself over it but every war ends someday. It will not be me who decides for you if you want to hope or if you want to wither away into a shell of yourself. Place that burden on the sword. On your kami. On anyone you feel fit to bear it. But you know the truth. You are the one who decides your next step.”

A pause and then the final nail in the coffin.

“And you already know what you _hope_ to find when you pick up that sword.”

Disquiet fell on her. She looked down, head bobbing a few times in understanding. Not a word. Just a thoughtfulness that he could not parse. The conversation had definitely sobered her slightly. She still swayed a small bit, her fingers lacing into his bedsheets pensively. 

“It will be dinner soon,” Gaius said after the quiet had passed. “I will fetch it for you and we will eat here.”

Her eyes lit up with surprise.

He continued. “And then you will go to bed and sleep off this sickness. But I expect you at the training grounds on the morrow. Sick or healthy.”

“And the sword?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Thank you. For… all of this.”

“It is all right.”

She sat with a slight slump to her posture, meek and small on his bed. Her eyes had stopped tearing up, leaving a devoid dullness about her. No doubt the headache would come shortly. And then any other illness she might feel that went along with a hangover. Wordlessly, Gaius walked into the bathroom, grabbed a bucket he used for trash and sat it in front of her. She nodded again, a quiet thanks. He looked at her for a few long moments, the paleness that had taken to her skin, the sickening despair her body was desperately trying to shake off, the frown that seemed permanently drawn onto her face. Her earthen brown hair, a near unkempt tangle that was shoddily tied back. She was a mess.

Yet even in this sorry state, there was something about her that made the rest of the room fade out. He mused on it for a long while, his hands recalling the touch of her horn just two days ago. To cherish such a memory felt treasonous but he silently did so anyways. He did not have to mull over the meaning behind such feelings. But he found himself unable to accept them, a fearful surge in his chest quickly squashing them. Stiffly, Gaius turned away from her and slipped out the door to get them both food. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the beginning of the fic, which I have mentally segmented into several arcs. This arc is the first one, titled "Finding Hope" in my mind. The next arc will focus a bit more on what happened to some of the characters who have been declared MIA and will be less emotionally-oriented and more action-oriented... with a lot of emotion in there as well. The next chapter will formally end this segment and move into the next one.
> 
> Thank you for reading this far.


	13. Edge of Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next step is always the hardest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added tags: Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
> 
> Next arc: Start! ... As soon as we wrap up a thing or two here and there.

When the hangover hit, she only found solace in that Gaius had stayed long enough to hold her hair back as she puked into the trash bin. Dinner did not settle well and her heaving drained her energy until she was a dizzy mess that threatened to topple off of bed and plummet headfirst into the bin. He steadied her with a hand, sighing. It sounded like weighty disappointment and she tried to ignore it, tried not to let it get to her. By the end of the evening, she vowed to try to make it to her room down the hall. He stayed with her, a silent guardian, halfway holding her up as she stumbled her way to bed. And he stayed a bit longer, watching her curl miserably on her side. No taunts about how this had been such a bad idea. No more monologues or lectures. Quiet care. She liked it and not because he was not scolding her. 

The next day came and she felt the last vestiges of the hangover creep about her body still. But she got ready for training nonetheless, slipping her wine red coat over her shoulders to stave off the chill. She tied her hair back into a long ponytail, applied a vivid crimson eyeliner and departed shortly after. Kaida’s chest burned with a need to push through the lingering bits of illness she felt. Each step was focused as she ascended up the steps to the training grounds. There was no name to this need to press through the discomfort, no reason to it either—at least not that she could put into definitive terms. 

He stood there in his overcoat, inspecting the practice weapons and not casting her a single look as she walked in. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew she still felt the effects of the binge drinking last night. And she knew he would not hold back. A bitter smile flickered across her face when he handed her the sword she had been using before. 

Training came and went in a flurry of exercises and sparring rounds. Her arms became bruised under the cloth of her coat, having taken a few strikes from his blunt blade. As expected, Gaius did not hold back and she silently thanked him for it. She did not land a single successful hit on him—a fact she would have found shameful had that not been the norm for the last few days. And when he called the end of their training, she felt her heart leap with anticipation.

“I suppose now you would like to see the blade,” Gaius began, as if it needed to be said at all. “I have brought it. I will leave it here with you. I suppose viewing it here would be more comfortable than in my quarters.”

Kaida watched him walk towards the weapon racks, reaching behind it to pull Deathbringer’s case out. He hoisted it up, cradling it in both hands as he approached. And then he placed it at her feet, a wistfulness about him.

“It was undamaged. I had the blacksmith look it over regardless,” Gaius continued. “The gem is inside as well. You may do as you like with the both of them. No one else will venture up here for a few hours.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling as though she could not find better words to suit the gratefulness and numbness in her chest. Her eyes crawled over the case as she listened to him walk away. His boots made purposeful, loud steps that descended down into the belly of the Stilled Ice. And soon enough, she was alone. Just as she had requested.

Her fingers found the latches to be slightly stubborn in the cold. But she worked each one open, the sound of them unlatching echoing in the iced cavern. Her heart beat in her throat as her hands grabbed the rim of the container’s lid. Kaida feared for a moment that this was a prank of sorts. She would flip open the lid to find Deathbringer missing. But she chided herself not to be so untrusting. He had done so many good things for her already, why would he choose now to be so cruel?

She opened the container and saw her claymore sitting there—undisturbed as though a year had not passed since it had last been used and her hands had not treacherously dropped it days ago. A rush of emotions overcame her, heat in her neck and face rising. Tears formed like liquid crystals in the corners of her eyes. Her right hand found the hilt and then her left followed. She rose and as she did, she lifted the sword. The Raen’s fingers tightened their hold and the feeling was nostalgic, a wave of warmth that made her feel like she was home. Deathbringer glowed softly cyan, runes brimming to life. She held it so the tip pierced into the permafrost underfoot.

_Hear._

An exhale passed from her lips, wisplike and visible yet dissipating in half of a second’s time. Holding the sword, she questioned how she could have ever wanted to give up. She questioned how she could have ever thought despair could win, in spite of everything that had happened. Lightness filled her chest. The cold in the air around her reminded of the whipping winds when Nidhogg’s dreaded shade had come to raze Ishgard. She could still hear Aymeric’s voice as he screamed to throw the eyes into the ravine.

_Feel._

Aymeric was dead. Dead like Haurchefant. Dead like Ysayle. That hope in her chest faltered as well as her grip. The unseen line under the cloth of her coat began to tingle, a prelude to what she feared would come. Her breath hitched and when she looked down at Deathbringer, she remembered what it had been like to stab it through Shinryu’s chest in the Royal Menagerie. Blood soaked the flowers, trailing over the exquisite tiles on the pathway she had stood on. Ala Mhigo was fallen now, fallen again. She thought of Raubahn dying to defend the throne and her tears came faster, filled with grief. Blood had run over those tiles again in her absence.

_Think._

She sank to a knee, the ashen white scales of her forehead grazing the eye-like marker above Deathbringer’s hilt. Kaida’s arm went from tingling to burning. Tears flowed freely like waterfalls, splashing onto the frozen ground. It was hard to think and harder to breathe. She remembered when the days seemed more simple. Go kill a primal. Come home. Maybe Tataru would have baked them a cake for it. Minfilia had always loved celebrating their successes. Anything to get everyone together. Anything for the semblance of a family. But those days were long passed. And they could never go back.

_Listen to my voice._

Familiar words. Familiar feelings. A midnight abyss that called to be bathed in. An abyss that was not the uncanny one where Ardbert had found her. When it called to her, it whispered things she had once known when she had held this sword. It was from this abyss that her emotions pooled, swelling, threatening to spill out. She breathed, lungs and wind pipe feeling taut, hard-pressed to do their job. And all the while, her mind thought back to her long journey to this moment. From Ruby Sea to Eorzea to Norvrandt and back. From negligent shrine maiden to savior. A title that still felt too big for her sometimes. But they had christened her the Little Dragon after Operation Archon. The second “dragon” to thwart an Imperial invasion. She had to carry the burdens they gave her. And she had carried them as far as she could. And now they wanted her to carry it again. But could she? Was it even possible…?

_Listen to our heartbeat._

She exhaled sharply. Was there even a question to ask at this point? What was possible did not matter in the face of what was necessary. And she could play the part of the fallen hero all she wanted. It did not fit her. It could never fit her. She had too much fight left and she felt it as the pain trailed up her arm and into her shoulder. It felt like there was something beneath her skin that ached. Something she could feel but not identify.

_Listen to the other…_

A torrent of images flashed across her mind at a jarring pace. Some of them were blurred and veiled in a sickly pale teal ooze. The cold of a laboratory table. The bite of shackles against her flesh. Freedom beyond the glass, her fingertips grasping for it. Tubes that ebbed her energy away. The crackle of corrupted aether. A scalpel. Familiar, shaking hands she reached for desperately with a plea on her breath. But it was too disorienting to tell who they belonged to. 

More voices. Different voices. She could hear them clearly. But they formed no cohesive conversation. Just passing by glimpses from a memory that barely eluded her.

" _They got you.”_

_"Aye, they did but that doesn’t matter. They’re watching. Even now. Don’t worry. I’m going to get you out of here. I’m going to—ARGHHH!”_

_"Three test subjects. My oh my what luck.”_

_“If the beast does not bend then you may euthanize him for all I care. He will surely cause us less grief in death than he did in life.”_

_“No matter what happens, stay alive. You have to stay alive. Do what they tell you.”_

_“Your aether has stabilized… for now. You will be able to attune to the Necrotic Weapon. I… I tried to be as gentle as I could with everything but…”_

_“It’s all right. We will get out of here together… one way or another.”_

_“The nodes will keep you safe.”_

_“You fool. They are breaking you. And they will keep on breaking you. You are too weak to withstand it. Relinquish the reins. Spare yourself this pain.”_

_“Kaida!”_

Something felt like it was going to break. Something in her. Her eyes snapped open in time to see a crackle of lightning, a spark of deep orange magic coursing along her forearm. It hurt and she gasped in surprise. Each bolt flickered in and out of existence, as if it were being denied. Her right hand slipped off the sword’s hilt, grabbing at where her arm ached. Fingers hastily pulled the cloth back and she looked at her bare skin in confusion. Lightning came and went. Her fingernails dug into her own skin, feeling for the cause. And then she saw it. A tiny mark, barely noticeable at all. It was freshly sealed over. More freshly than some of the other marks on her body from their experimentation.

_What…?_

A surge of lightning and she could not hold back a scream. The world spun and she clamored to keep control of her senses, sweaty hands grabbing the sword’s hilt as tears flowed unchecked from her eyes. Kaida tried to pull herself back up but her legs gave out and all that held her up was her own grip on her blade, the tip submerged into the ground.

Just as she could feel her peripherals start to fade out and her body start to go limp, something grabbed her from behind. An arm snaked around her waist, holding her up from collapsing entirely. And then it gently lowered her—not onto the cold floor of the training grounds but into more warmth. An embrace. Her eyes snapped wide and the lightning faded.

There was a part of her that had known as soon as her fall had been broken who had come to rescue her. His hands were calloused but gentle. His concern was in his eyes and the slight dip of his mouth. Her head lolled back, nestling in the crook of his elbow. The pain subsided, replaced with exhaustion as she collapsed further into him.

“Y-you’re always catching me these days…” Kaida said to Gaius, voice not shivering but thick with emotion and strain. 

“And you are always falling,” He remarked, scanning her over hastily.

“Why are you here? Y-you left…” she began.

“I did,” Gaius acknowledged with a nod. “And then I heard screaming. It is your arm again?”

“It is,” Kaida admitted. “There’s something… something there.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Under… under the skin…” she said, choking on swaths of saliva that had gathered in her mouth. “They put something there…”

“We need to get you to Master Elmont,” he declared at once and she could not argue with that. He scooped her up and she felt like a ragdoll in his grasp. 

“The sword…” Kaida began feebly.

“I will have it returned to your room,” Gaius said calmly as he began descending the steps.

He carried her and she thought briefly of how this was not the first time and likely not the last. Her fingers found bits of loose fabric to cling to and let herself do so for the sake of stability. And feeling his warmth was a reminder that she was not alone. 

_I held the sword and I felt hope. But by the kami did I feel despair too._

So many thoughts, brief shards of memories, and feelings. Mysteries and answers both. But mostly mysteries. And Kaida Asagiri hated mysteries. As her tears wet Gaius’s shirt, she breathed and acknowledged to herself that these memories would never go away. No matter how hard her heart and mind tried to suppress them. No matter how much she wanted to go back to the old days, they were gone. There was only one road ahead. And it was flooded with fear.

But she had to keep going. Even if it hurt. She had to tell them all what she knew and did not want to know.

“Gaius,” she said, the feel of his name on her tongue strange and alien. But not unwelcome. He glanced down at her and she felt her tears well up again, voice threatening to break as she said what she had known since the day she had woken up. The day she had started to remember. Kaida sucked in a breath, sharp through her nose. And then the confession came.

“It… it wasn’t Zenos.”

He froze, sweeping his gaze down at her in surprise even his stoicism could not mask. Her hands squeezed his coat, fingers wrapping into the fabric tightly. The feeling of it kept her rooted there. It kept her anchored as the panic ran rampant in her body.

“I did not fight Zenos,” she began, each word difficult to say. “I know I did not. The Weapon Project. We both know he n-never cared for it. Never cared for the throne either.”

Zenos was a puzzle piece that did not fit in the picture here. And maybe he did not because he had nothing to do with this. But that left even more questions. Who? How? Why? She wished and yet did not wish she could remember. Her fingers scraped back the cloth on her arm, looking at it, remembering the familiar hands that had done this to her. They had shaken, trembling with fear. And they had touched hers softly. So softly.

“If it was not Zenos, then who…?” Gaius asked her, breaking her thoughts. He carried on down the hallway in haste. 

“I… I don’t know,” Kaida admitted, shaking her head. That knowledge was passed the blurred images; passed the veil of ooze she could not see through in her memories. Inaccessible. But not permanently. She could feel bits of her mind tugging at it. Trying to dissect more. But it did not yield.

“It matters not at the moment,” Gaius said. “Do you recall anything else?”

“A trap…” Kaida began. “And then it fades. And then Ardbert.”

“Ardbert?” Gaius asked.

“That’s… that’s a _long_ story,” Kaida fumbled. “I was asleep… and then I…”

_I wasn’t._

The medic’s wing came into sight and Gaius all but kicked down its door, hands firmly gripping her. Elmont was tending to a young soldier when the door slammed open, the elderly elezen jumping in shock. He finished the healing spell on the soldier hastily then pointed at an empty bed wordlessly. Kaida was whisked towards it and lowered gingerly down so that her head hit a not-so-fluffy white pillow.

“What happened?” Elmont demanded of Gaius in a hoarse and panicked voice.

“She collapsed. Her arm is paining her. She says there is something in it,” Gaius said as Elmont hurried to the side of the bed across from him.

“In it?” Elmont asked, aghast.

“They put something _inside_ of me. It’s… it’s causing something. Lightning. Pain,” Kaida tried to explain as the elezen grabbed her arm in question, pulling back her sleeve and looking it over. His fingers felt over her skin and scales, eyes searching for the answer.

“We did know your aether contain properties of corruption,” Elmont replied. “Something that would likely kill someone. But yet you remained. And we never could ascertain _why…_ ”

His thumb dug _hard_ into her forearm and she felt it stub something. Instinctively, Kaida moved to yank her arm away but the elezen’s grip was firm. He squinted at the skin, feeling around for the device until the tip of his thumb found it once more. Elmont repeated the gesture and the Raen clenched her teeth as he dully jabbed her.

“Tis small,” Elmont said quickly. “But deep. Very deep. We will have to cut it out if we are to determine what it is. But there are tests we can run before we do that. I want to make sure what we do doesn’t _kill_ you.”

“Kill me!?” Kaida exclaimed.

“Your body is somehow stabilizing what should be unstable. And I would hate to disrupt that process,” Elmont said. “We need to look at your aether. If I can measure its flow in your body, I may be able to ascertain what this device is doing to you.”

“And if it’s bad?” Kaida asked.

“We will have to cut it out,” Elmont repeated carefully and the Raen felt a chill creep down her spine. He moved over to a desk in the corner of the room and began rifling through it, grabbing an assortment of medical devices. The elderly medic’s grumbling could be heard from where she lay.

Kaida scooted upright, pressing her back against the cold wall. The pain was subsiding but a prickling tingling remained. It felt like a phantom in her flesh, reminding her of something that had happened once. Something that had been forgotten.

_“The nodes will keep you safe.”_

She pondered those words, fingers rubbing over her skin. 

Loud footsteps down the hall alerted her. Gaius was the first to react, hand moving to a dagger he kept at his belt when Heirsbane was elsewhere. He moved towards the door wordlessly and Kaida, unarmed and still recovering, could only watch. As the Black Wolf put himself between the foot of the bed and the doorway, the door suddenly swung open. Kaida’s eyes traveled down to spy Tataru, barely visible beyond Gaius’s towering form. The lalafell was panting, her vivid eyes wide in panic.

“Gaius!?” Tataru screamed, voice fearful. “Step aside, we need a medic. Master Elmont!”

As she scrambled a few steps, she took note of Kaida, her horror evolving into confusion. “K-Kaida!? What’s happened to… Oh by the Twelve, not you too!”

Gaius’s stern voice cut through the lalafell’s shrill exclamations, though the Raen quickly noted he was addressing someone in the hallway.

“Nero, what happened?”

“How am I supposed to know? I was in my hanger one moment and the next thing I knew, they had scrambled inside with this one halfway bled to death,” Nero could be heard snapping back at the commander.

Gaius stepped aside and Nero quickly emerged into the room, supporting a bloodied semi-conscious Estinien. N’anrih was on the other side, trying her best to hold Estinien up but failing due to her short stature. The dragoon’s hand was at his stomach, palm desperately trying to stop the bleeding but sanguine seeping between his armored fingers nonetheless. Krile was chasing after them, her robes bloodied and her eyes wide in surprise.

“W-what…” Kaida began.

“Oh, seven hells!” Elmont breathed as he looked over his shoulder. “Get him to a bed, I’ll tend to him first. Krile, if you could assist me, please.”

“She kept him alive the entire drive, she’s nearly spent, Master Elmont!” N’anrih exclaimed.

“I… I can manage,” Krile said reassuringly.

They lowered Estinien onto a bed near Kaida’s and he hissed out a gasp of pain as soon as his back touched the mattress. Elmont began to strip the armor off of the elezen quickly with N’anrih assisting as best as she could. Her fervent, quivering voice told snippets of the tale between heavy pants. She discarded Estinien’s breastplate onto the ground quickly and Kaida noted the blood splatter that splashed from it and onto the graystone floor. 

“The Hopebreaker. Just as formidable as our intelligence thought,” the miqo’te said. “He was on us before we could get to Mor Dhona. I had never seen anything like it.”

_Hopebreaker?_

“By the gods…” Tataru breathed, her eyes watery.

“Well, it would seem you got his attention,” Nero remarked as he backed away from the bedside, his hands reddened and disdainful gleam about his tone. “Please do not tell me you _led_ him here.”

“We did not,” Krile said breathlessly as she started healing Estinien’s wounds. “But we returned as fast as we could. We almost made it to Mor Dhona before he found us. He could think we escaped south, out of the highlands.”

“Or he could have followed you all here and the Garleans could be readying a siege force as we speak,” Nero retorted.

“He will not…” Estinien began, voice breaking from the pain. Krile pressed a palm to his forehead but he fought against her light touch, lifting his head. “I led him towards Mor Dhona. The glamour… he never saw through it. He believed I was Kaida. We are… we are safe… for the time being…”

“Try not to talk,” Krile hushed him gently.

“He thought _what?_ ” Kaida began, rising from the bed stiffly. She thought to hop down but Gaius put a hand on her to keep her on the bed. His eyes dwelled on Estinien, however, apprehensive and quiet.

“We need to post sentries,” Tataru said hastily. “Gaius, can you handle that for me? N’anrih, go with him.”

“Yes,” Gaius replied with a curt nod yet as he turned away to go, he glanced back at Kaida. He hesitated for a moment then pointed at her with a finger, voice gravelly and stern. “Stay here until I have returned.”

He departed with N’anrih and Kaida was left with more questions than answers, her mind flitting about the node that was under her skin, Estinien’s labored breathing, and the blood that Nero was trying to wash off of his hands in the corner of the room. The Chief of Magitek grumbled something about cleaning up the mess in the hanger and readying their defenses for an imminent invasion before leaving. Tataru sighed after him, rubbing her forehead. She turned to the Raen, a tired expression on her face.

“What _are_ you doing here, Kaida?” Tataru asked her. “Are you unwell? Is… is that why you missed the meeting yesterday?”

The Warrior of Light winced inwardly. Oh yeah. She had forgotten about that. 

“I think we should worry about Estinien for the time being,” Kaida said, hurriedly trying to divert the Antecedent’s attention. “Elmont. I used to be a conjurer years ago. Is there something I can do to help?”

“Your aether is _corrupted_ and I have not forgotten that you came in here a sweating, pained mess just five minutes ago,” the elderly elezen snapped at her and the Raen lowered her head, having felt she had just gotten a scolding.

“You _what?_ ” Tataru asked in surprise.

“It was just a small episode,” Kaida began, knowing that was a lie.

“Kaida…” Tataru said, her voice trailing off into a sigh.

Stabilizing Estinien took up the bulk of the next hour with Elmont summoning in a few extra medics to help heal him. Kaida watched them work with her heart thundering in her chest—fear and confusion falling over her like a heavy rainstorm. She felt as if she could not speak as they worked, her words lodged in her throat and unmoving. How could this have happened? And to _Estinien_ , nonetheless?

_Do not be stupid, Kaida. Estinien is strong but stronger people have fallen to the Empire. This is the normal now. Blood, fear, and despair._

…

_This is why we have to cling to hope. Because we’ll go mad if we don’t._

When the bandages had been applied and the curing spells done, Elmont sent his disciples and Krile away to rest. Estinien fell into an unsteady slumber, his expression still pained even as he slept. Kaida watched his face ripple with bits of agony. And she watched Elmont wearily wash his hands with a wet rag and lean against the counter in exhaustion. His forehead touched the wall.

_We’re all at our limits here._

“Why did Estinien say that?” Kaida asked Tataru quietly. “Why did he say that… Hopebreaker person thought he was me? W-we look nothing alike…”

“Kaida,” Tataru began uneasily. “You know the Garleans are after you. They have sent a special force to reclaim you, led by a mysterious man known as the Hopebreaker. Estinien… thought to lead the Hopebreaker astray by having you sighted elsewhere. We used a glamour to make him look like you. The Stilled Ice cannot handle a Garlean siege. We simply do not have the defenses for it.”

“So you let him? You let him pretend to be _me_?” Kaida asked incredulously, voice rising slightly. Under her skin, where the tingling had now vanished, she could feel that spot that Elmont had jabbed. The small device embedded in her flesh. It made her skin crawl and she looked to Estinien, envisioning what horrors they could have done to him if they had caught him. Her voice trembled with the next question.

“D-don’t you know what could have happened, Tataru?”

“He knew the risks,” Tataru began stiffly. “W-we all did…”

“Did you?” Kaida challenged quietly, shakily.

“And what were we supposed to do?” Tataru asked her, tears streaming down either sides of her face. “You are obviously still recovering and we don’t have… we don’t have the resources like we used to, Kaida.”

“Yes but—” Kaida started.

“I am not Minfilia,” Tataru said suddenly, her hurt evident in her voice. “And I’m sure as hells not Alphinaud either. Twelve know they would have had better ideas but we have our backs to the wall and they're not here. And there is only so much we can do…”

“I…” Kaida began but realized she had no reply to that. 

The door opened and Gaius returned alone with a report. He first tossed a look at Estinien, face betraying not a single ounce of emotion at the resting elezen. And then he looked back to Kaida and Tataru.

“Our scouts are reporting Garlean transport ships docking at Castrum Nocte,” Gaius announced. “No movement indicating hostility. _Yet_ , I should add. It would seem the airships came to deliver something to the castrum. Likely reinforcements.”

“Then even if the Hopebreaker has gone south, the Imperials have decided to bolster their defenses here regardless,” Tataru lamented, her shoulders drooping slightly. “We will have to withdraw all forces into the Stilled Ice for the time being. I do not want anyone else getting hurt.”

“Understood,” Gaius said.

“Now that half of the madness is dealt with,” Elmont began as he walked over, looking exhausted. “I do apologize for that. I should still like to measure your aether, though I am afraid that so much time has passed since the episode that it may not tell me much at the moment.”

“Does someone care to fill me in?” Tataru asked worriedly.

“There are devices in Lady Asagiri’s flesh that are possibly responsible for why her aether is displaying symptoms of corruption,” Elmont said simply, grabbing a device that looked akin to goggles. “Now, usually for such a task, I would ask Krile to perform the measurements. But alas, she looked so exhausted that I sent her to bed. My less-than-trained eye will have to do. For the moment, at least. I will want Krile to run a test as well on the morrow.”

“Devices in… her f-flesh?” Tataru’s face paled considerably.

Gaius’s eyes skirted to Kaida’s. That unspoken intensity never left them—precise and keen. There was something he wanted her to do, she knew. This was him prompting her, or perhaps giving her a choice. As Elmont felt her arm with his goggles on, she stared back at Gaius, trying to decipher the meaning behind his blatant stare. And then it dawned on her.

_He wants me to tell them what I’ve remembered._

Repeating the words she had said to him did not feel easy. In addition to that there were still bits and pieces she had kept quiet about. The voices she had heard made little sense but there was sense they could derive even from the lack of context. She hoped she remembered it all accurately. But where to begin? What parts of the puzzle made sense in this situation.

_The Weapon. They did something to my aether and it has to do with the Weapon._

“The Necrotic Weapon,” Kaida said, the words feeling familiar on her tongue, as if she had said them before once. She paused to reflect on that, mulling that name over. Necrotic. Death. A weapon associated with death, that was made in the image of death, that was piloted by someone on the verge of death. It reeked with corrupted aether—a fact that she knew suddenly, inexplicably. Corrupted aether that she… had _attuned_ to. 

“So it has a name,” Gaius remarked quietly.

“They forced me to attune to it,” Kaida said, voice and body starting to numb. “In order to do that, they had to… something. Something with my aether.”

“Corrupt it,” Elmont finished grimly, still looking her over.

“‘The nodes will keep you safe’,” Kaida echoed.

“Nodes?” Elmont asked curiously.

“It’s just what I remember,” she said. “But I cannot make any sense of it. The person who did it, they tried to explain it, I think. They were… kind. They were… someone I knew…”

“A friend?” Tataru prompted.

“Can you try to remember?” Elmont asked her.

“Every time I dig deep, it hurts,” Kaida admitted. “That’s how this begin today.”

Elmont sighed and lowered the goggles from his eyes, resting back into a chair. “Well, from what I can tell, your aether is very much how it was when you arrived here. Still displaying elements of corruption. And yet still here you are…”

There was a silent ‘but’ in that statement and Kaida could feel it.

“The flow of your aether, however, does seem to be less corrupted in points in your body. Specific points. Particularly…” the old elezen reached out with his calloused hand, thumb pressing over where the device was in Kaida’s arm. “… _here_.”

She glanced down at where he had poked her in wonderment.

“Then this device is… benevolent?” Gaius asked with great trepidation in his voice.

“We will have to run further tests to make sure but… I am inclined to believe there is not just one device but _several_ in her body,” Elmont said and Kaida felt her skin prickle once more. “A very premature hypothesis, mind you. I cannot be sure of anything from watching her aether move. Krile’s follow up test will tell us more, I am certain.”

“But why does it hurt if it’s supposed to be helpful?” Kaida asked.

“That I cannot say. I am a healer and though I did dabble quite a bit in aetherology when I dwelled in Sharlayan, I am no expert in such a matter,” Elmont shook his head. “Were Miss Y’shtola here or perhaps even Master Matoya, I would recommend their expertise as well as Krile’s. But alas…”

“Then the follow up test will be on the morrow,” Gaius said brusquely. “The sooner this mystery is unraveled, the better.”

“Agreed though I wonder if anything can be done at this point,” Elmont replied darkly. “If these devices are somehow keeping the corruption in check then we would be remiss to remove them.”

“Then… the lightning and the pain…” Kaida began, eyes lowering. Was there no cure for this?

“I should like to see such lightning before casting any judgment,” Elmont said. “I do believe the lightning is a side-effect of the corruption. But that it is not constantly plaguing you makes me believe that it can become something manageable, if we can ascertain what triggers it.”

“The memories…” Kaida said. “I do think it’s linked to them somehow.”

“A strange connection but maybe there’s truth to it,” Elmont nodded. “For now, I would recommend resting, and I can assure you that though this place is for patients, you will find more peaceful rest in your quarters. I will be tending to Sir Estinien’s wounds momentarily and I would hate to disturb you. I do expect you here on the morrow. Bright and early. And ready for Krile and I to do a fair amount of investigating.”

“That sounds fine by me,” Kaida nodded, though the concept of being investigated made her insides twist in uncertainty.

“And if she should have another fit?” Tataru asked worriedly.

“I doubt that such a fit would kill her in a night’s time,” Elmont reassured the Antecedent. “Given that she has no doubt been having them for the last few weeks.”

“Has she?!” Tataru stammered and Kaida averted her gaze guiltily. The lalafell sighed, shaking her head. “You lot… I swear you will all be the death of me. Gaius, I would have someone posted outside of Kaida’s door. Anyone that will not fall asleep and miss her if she begins yelling for help.”

“That can be arranged,” Gaius said with the dip of his head.

“After the testing, I want to hold another meeting. Oh don’t you frown at me, Commander. Today has been trying for us all,” Tataru declared. “And Kaida, you are _not_ to miss this one, am I understood? Or I shall be very cross with you.”

“U-understood,” Kaida remarked, a bit sheepish in her reply.

And with nothing else left to do but wait, Kaida decided to return back to her room. Her thoughts were a preoccupied mess, thinking of her fragmented memories yet trying to remember them in a shallow way. She feared falling too deep into those dark waters. If the pain came back, she wondered what could even be done about it. Would it be something she would have to learn to tolerate over time? Would it be something she would have to learn to suppress? How could she fight Ifrit, much less the _Empire_ , if this was to plague her forever? She did not know and that worried her. Perhaps sitting by and letting despair win had been agonizing in its own way but there was comfort in that kind of latent pain. This was… different. Scary. Kaida looked at her arm and thought of the device inside of it. Ugh how it made her skin crawl…

She tried to discard those thoughts but they persisted until she realized they would not go away. Now that the veil had been slightly lifted, she wanted—no, _craved_ —to know more about what had happened. The puzzle needed to be completed.

Footsteps behind her. She paused, the rhythm familiar. A small gander from the corner of her eye confirmed the Black Wolf following her. Purposeful with that stoic expression. Kaida sighed.

“Here to make sure I don’t collapse again, are you?” she asked without even looking back at him.

“I have orders,” Gaius replied flatly.

“You act like my babysitter,” Kaida said.

“Clearly _someone_ must don that mantle,” Gaius remarked, that bland tone replaced with a soft jab. “Tell me, what would you have done if I had not heard you screaming?”

She had no answer for him. And she knew that he knew that. His smugness emanated from behind her and she sighed again, shaking her head. 

Thankfully her room was soon in sight, though before she could open the door, Gaius reached around her and opened it for her. She glanced at him in surprise then looked inside. Deathbringer’s wooden container sat in front of the bed, the lid closed. There was no doubt in her mind that the claymore was within. He must have fetched it from the training grounds when he had gone to post sentries around the Stilled Ice.

Kaida approached the container but did not open it. A simple grasp of the blade’s hilt had caused her emergency run to the healers and she did not want to tempt fate again. Instead, she turned to look at Gaius as he stepped through the doorway, shutting the door behind him.

“I know we hashed out certain topics yesterday while I was… erm… inebriated,” Kaida began. “I still wonder why you’ve been so nice to me. Why _you_ of all people… But I guess we already talked about that. I’m grateful you brought the sword here. I… suppose you already understand my position. I fear failing again. But I know that trying to run or ignore what happened won’t solve anything. I already failed. I cannot take that back. Or the people that died because of it.”

He stared at her. Really? No response? The Raen shifted her weight and sighed. “You were right. There, I will say it.”

“It was not about being right, Kaida,” Gaius said calmly. “It was about what you _needed_.”

“Oh shove it. You knew I would come to this conclusion eventually in my own way and all this time, you were just waiting for it to happen,” Kaida began and the Black Wolf’s mouth curled slightly in an acknowledging smile. Flustered, she folded her arms. “I applaud your patience, Baelsar. You finally did get your revenge after all these years. And kami know I have the bruises to prove that you’ve outpaced me in skill. I assume you get some measure of pleasure from handing me my own arse every day?”  
  
“An onze,” Gaius acknowledged, smile widening as she scoffed at him. “I predicted your despondence would end ere long. Showing you the sword was a gamble but it enticed you well enough.”

“You make it sound like you played me,” Kaida huffed.

“Perhaps I did,” Gaius retorted. “And you may be upset with me. I will grant you that. But you cannot deny that today was progress.”

“Insufferable,” Kaida remarked with the shake of her head. “Though I will admit, I’m not upset. I’m… exhausted, if anything. And I’ve forced a lot of favors on you lately.”

“I hardly call them such,” Gaius said with a shrug. “When they benefit me as well.”

She supposed he was right. With each step she made towards improvement, the odds of their success against the Empire grew. Kaida rubbed her forehead. Ever the efficient one, that Black Wolf…

“Another favor, then, if you do not mind,” she said uncertainly after a moment of pause.

“And what is that?”

“Stay.”

“Stay?”

“Frankly, it seems every time I need someone, you come running. And I would spare you running such a distance,” Kaida said, feeling her cheeks flush slightly. “And Tataru said you had to post someone. Well. I… I want you to post _yourself_.”

“And why is that?” Gaius asked her, amusement in his tone as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You saw Castrum Nocte. The Necrotic Weapon. I want to hear your thoughts on it,” she said. “And the thought of some random person outside of the door unnerves me. A-and I know… I know we used to want to kill each other but…”

Strangers were unknown entities and he was becoming a known entity. A… welcome entity…?

He held up a hand to silence her. “Enough of… that. I can stay if you wish. But as far as the Weapon is concerned, I know very little. I am afraid you will be disappointed.”

“It could help me remember something,” Kaida insisted.

“And cause another episode,” Gaius pointed out.

“Gaius, please,” Kaida said quietly and he sighed at her.

“Very well,” grumbled the Black Wolf. “But sit. And if you should start feeling ill, we will stop. _Immediately._ ”

That was as good of a deal as she was going to get and she knew it. The Raen nodded and sat down on the bedside, resting her feet on Deathbringer’s case. Gaius pulled up a chair with another grumble under his breath—one that sounded so grumpy that it made her smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're screaming about this chapter, don't worry, I am too.


	14. Convalescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing and moving forward. The Rebellion looks towards its first big operation.

_It wasn’t Zenos._

Not cryptic at all but still a statement flooded with mystery. If not Zenos, then who? That was the first question, the obvious one. The upper echelons of the Garlean Empire were rife with candidates. House Galvus had diminished over the years due to in-fighting but their bloodline still ran strong as far as Gaius was concerned. But scanning through his memories of House Galvus, he saw none that could best the Warrior of the Light. Not in skill, not in wits.

There was a single answer the Black Wolf could think of and that was that an Ascian had bested her. But having carved her way through Lahabrea, Elidibus and Emet-Selch, he found that answering wanting for logic. There had been the cloaked one that had been shadowing Zenos as of late. Gaius had stolen his mask the last time they had crossed paths. But into the shadows had that Ascian, Fandaniel, scurried. Not a single sighting after Ghimlyt. The very same as Zenos. Though from Kaida’s recollections, he wondered if Zenos had even been present for the invasion.

Regardless if that were the case or not, one thing was very clear—the Empire was hiding something. Zenos had not shown his face in over a year according to their reports and that made Gaius question _many_ things. Kaida was correct—he had never cared for the throne, only for whetting his appetite. And if the Black Wolf did not know any better, he would have guessed Zenos had fled the Empire long ago to do so. But, then again, Zenos had been eager for Kaida to come to him. The invasion had seemingly been the Emperor’s patience running out but now Gaius was questioning if that was even true. 

_I do not like these mysteries. They feel more twisted and convoluted by the passing day,_ mused Gaius darkly. _It all began with a lie. Noble conquest for peace and unity under one banner. So that the weak could find shelter in the strong._

But reality had been lain bare for them all to see. ‘Unity’ and ‘peace’ had been lies spouted by Solus zos Galvus. Lies they had all bought into. Lies that left trillions dead. It was a poor jest that Kaida thought herself the sole reason Livia and Rhitahtyn were dead. He wondered if she ever thought about who had put them into those roles. He wondered if she had ever thought about how they had all believed the lies too.

As he stewed over the Necrotic Weapon, he thought hard about his conquest of Eorzea. He reflected upon how the future they were living in had almost come to pass all those years ago. And then Kaida had defeated him. A simple delaying of the inevitable, he supposed in bitter hindsight. 

“I will be frank,” Gaius said to her. “I know nothing of the schematics of the Necrotic Weapon. A cursory look at it reveals only that it was made with the Ultima Weapon in mind structurally. Much like the Ruby and Emerald Weapons, it does not stand upright but on its fours. Presumably the pilot’s seat would be at its head—a visage of death, carved in the manner of a skull.”

“Right,” Kaida said, a blankness in her voice giving him the impression she had no idea what he was talking about. “So I remember something about having to attune to its aether. I didn’t know magitek… had aether. Though, I’ll admit aether is kinda outside my area of expertise.”

“I know not what that would be about. Perhaps there is something within the Weapon? Similar to the Heart of Sabik?” Gaius guessed aloud.

“I wish I could remember,” Kaida replied. “Do you recall anything else?”

“No. I seized the opportunity to flee with you soon after seeing the Weapon for myself,” Gaius said.

“Its face looks like a skull…” Kaida mused, rubbing her chin. “It rings no bells. But if I had to attune to its aether, I’m confident that I was the only pilot for it. If they had to go so far as to put all these _nodes_ in me…”

She looked at her arms suspiciously, voice trailing off.

“I agree with you,” Gaius said with a nod. “I think we would have seen the Weapon activated by now. And they seem most upset that you are gone.”

“A pity for them,” Kaida smiled half-heartedly.

“Indeed,” Gaius remarked.

“Well, I suppose I have to rest for the rest of the day,” Kaida said thoughtfully. “A pity. I was hoping we could train some more tomorrow but until this is solved…”

“Rushing headlong into training will not yield improvement,” Gaius pointed out. “And if you should have another fit…”

“I suppose that’s true. But one way or another, I have to be ready to fight Ifrit soon,” Kaida replied. “And I feel like I still have a long way to go.”

“You do,” Gaius agreed. “But you are improving.”

“I want to improve faster,” Kaida said impatiently.

“A drastic change from your attitude before,” Gaius commented airily.

_That manner of resolve is something she has been lacking since she awoke. Another clear sign of improvement. Good._

“Stop smiling,” the Raen scowled and the Black Wolf realized he was. She folded her arms. “I don’t understand what’s so amusing to you.”

“I am only excited to see you as you once were,” Gaius replied.

“You know, one of these days, you’re going to stop handing my ass to me,” Kaida began. “And maybe I’ll get a win on you.”

“I welcome it,” Gaius said in delight, leaning back in his chair and the Raen huffed again.

“You won’t when the time comes!”

“I am ready for the Little Dragon’s bite to match the fire she spews.”

“What does that mean!?”

“Exactly as it sounds, Little Dragon.”

“I’ll wipe that smile off your face one of these days, Baelsar,” Kaida protested. 

“Given that I am posted here until your follow up with Miss Baldesion tomorrow, I dare say you shall have a long time to try,” Gaius pointed out.

“Y-you plan to stay all night?!” Kaida asked.

“You _did_ ask me to post myself as your guard,” Gaius stated.

“I… where will you sleep?!” Kaida stammered.

“I probably will not,” Gaius replied after a gander about the mostly empty room.

“Don’t be foolish. Ugh. I can get you something to sleep on, I’m certain. W-we could… move your mattress down the hall…” she started.

That was not a bad idea but Gaius was still reluctant to agree to it. He stewed upon the thought for a few moments, musing over how inane this all seemed. But there was sense to it. He pondered over turning the task over to Theodeaux or perhaps even N’hyako. But leaving her alone with someone she perceived to be a stranger made him feel uneasy. She was still fragile mentally, even if she was improving. And despite placing his trust in his soldiers, he preferred to deal with her himself. Brusquely, he snorted and rubbed his forehead.

“Very well,” the Black Wolf conceded.

“W-what!?” Kaida gasped.

“I will need your help. Come with me,” Gaius said, rising and moving towards the door.

“T-that won’t be necessary,” Kaida fumbled.

“Well, I will _not_ be sleeping on the floor,” Gaius retorted over his shoulder and left the room. She would follow. He knew it. And when she scampered after him like a curious whelp, he had to bite back a smile. 

The mattress and some blankets were soon seized from his quarters and Kaida’s face reddened with each step back towards her room. Gaius kept his stoic front but found his gaze wandering back to her in amusement. She hid her face behind the half of the mattress she was carrying, a vivid scarlet in her cheeks that clashed with her bright emerald irises. He thought to make a small jab at her when Nero emerged from an adjacent hallway. An apple was in one hand. A thought-provoked expression rested on his face, light-hued eyes trailing after them. Gaius glared at him, daring him to utter a word. Nero said nothing; but his grin said a million things. By the time they were back to Kaida’s room, the Black Wolf found himself a bit flustered. The feeling went away before long, however, suppressed by more important thoughts. He sat the mattress close to her bed, lost in thought.

_It wasn’t Zenos._ _And if it was not Zenos, then it was an unknown entity. And that could arguably be worse._

“T-this is stupid,” Kaida said, interrupting his thoughts.

“It is practical,” Gaius corrected her.

“This entire thing… w-why did I even suggest this?” Kaida asked.

“You were thinking ahead. Better to have a solution now than later,” Gaius said to her.

“Commend me all you want but I’m sure we have all of the Stilled Ice talking now,” Kaida retorted.

“Nero will say nothing,” Gaius replied gruffly.

“Oh like hells he won’t,” Kaida sputtered.

“And if he does, then it matters not. It is done and you should not concern yourself with it,” Gaius added. 

“If you say so,” Kaida said uncertainly.

The rest of the day went in a blur. Their chatter was idle and strewn throughout the hours they spent together. Gaius took some time to tend to Heirsbane and Kaida watched his reflection in her mirror as she brushed out her messy hair. If there was tension between the two of them, it was so meager that it was not worth mentioning. A small victory in a sea of battles. 

Night was soon upon them. A few hours after dinner, Kaida decided to retire for the night and Gaius took his position on his mattress just below the foot of her bed. She reached for the nearby lantern, moving to stifle out the small flame the lit the room. But she hesitated for a moment, glancing his way. He pondered what was going on through her mind. Did she regret her choice yet? Would she have rather had a soldier positioned just outside of her bedroom? He supposed he could still arrange that. 

“I…” the Raen fumbled for a moment. “H-have a good night.”

Clumsy but what else could either of them be in this situation?

“You as well.”

And then the light went out. It was a little colder than normal but he wrapped himself up in a blanket, listening to the silence. Her breathing changed before long—that was when he knew she slept. Each inhale was slow, peaceful. Each exhale like a serene sigh. It formed a pleasant rhythm, one that he soon fell asleep to.

The next morning came too early for his liking but he managed to crawl out of bed regardless. Kaida still slept and though he knew she should get ready to be seen by Elmont and Krile, Gaius found himself hesitating to wake her up. He glanced down at where she cuddled her pillow, face buried into its side and decided against disturbing her. She looked content and he did not want to disturb that.

He returned to his quarters to change clothes and get ready for the day. By the time that was done, he knew it was time that Kaida at least get out of bed. He walked over to her door, knocking on it. She answered it, already showered and ready to go with her hair still damp and pulled back into a bun.

“You talk in your sleep, you know,” the Raen said to him briskly as they walked down the hall. “And I’m not sure why you’re walking me to Master Elmont’s.”

_Fiery today._

“Did I say anything of note?” Gaius asked.

“It sounded like you were scolding someone,” Kaida replied.

“Apt,” remarked the Black Wolf thoughtfully. “I was likely chiding you to go back to sleep.”

“Are you the Rebellion’s commander or are you the Rebellion’s nanny?” Kaida scoffed.

“‘Tis the same job,” Gaius grumbled.

They arrived a minute later, with Elmont and Krile whisking Kaida away to another room for privacy. Their medic quarters were occupied, Gaius noticed. There was one soldier who seemed to be suffering an illness to his stomach. A maid was getting a cut on her arm seen to. And Estinien was in the back of the room, his torso bandaged and his stormy eyes staring holes through the wall. He sat upright, a mostly neglected plate of food at his bedside. His hair had been tied back and he looked as if he were in deep thought. 

Despite Gaius understanding he had much to do with his duties for the day, he could not resist approaching Estinien’s bed. 

“I seem to recall telling you to be careful,” Gaius said.

“And I seem to recall _being_ careful,” Estinien replied, looking to the Black Wolf with a tired set of stormy blue eyes. “But I suppose not enough.”

“Clearly,” Gaius remarked evenly. “Were you able to glean anything helpful about our enigmatic pursuer?”

“He wielded a gunblade almost as well as you do,” Estinien said. 

“Is that so?” Gaius asked. “Then I suppose the next time he crosses paths with the Rebellion, I shall have to meet him. If he is _almost_ as skilled as I am.”

They drifted into silence for a few moments, with Estinien adjusting his sitting position. He glanced at the plate to his left, picking at it. Gaius mused how a mug of ale would taste, his thoughts still stewing on Zenos. Or rather, the lack of Zenos. 

“You look troubled,” Estinien observed.

“Kaida has begun to remember things,” Gaius admitted. “Things that paint a bizarre picture that I can make no sense of.”

“It can never be easy; you know that by now. I assume the abbreviated notes will be in a report somewhere?” Estinien inquired.

“I will get to that, but…” His eyes wandered to where the Raen had been spirited away by Krile and Elmont. When he looked back at the elezen, he found a strange spark in Estinien’s eyes. Keen and knowing.

“She will come to no harm with them and you know that,” Estinien said.

Something about those words made him feel exposed and he loathed that. Gaius’s pale eyes flitted to Estinien, looking over the elezen as he calmly rested back into his bed. It was true; nothing kept him here, waiting for her. But he feared as soon as he left, he would hear her screams echo down the hallway once more. A pained, heart-wrenching sound.

“Gaius,” Estinien added gravely. “The Hopebreaker is someone not to be trifled with. But I am going to recommend to Lady Tataru that we continue with the plan to have Kaida fight Ifrit accordingly. I fear we can afford little delay.”

A somber pause gave Gaius enough time to swallow that information.

Estinien winced, touching his bandaged stomach. “The flames of hope falter outside of the Stilled Ice. I fear they will pitter out before we have had our chance to stoke them.”

A war of emotions conflicted within the Garlean over those words. Caution meant survival. It had meant survival for the last year. But there was truth in Estinien’s words. Not showing their face would give the people the impression that the Rebellion was dead. Another squashed faction under the Empire’s heel. Despair would reign. But move too rashly and the Empire would find them all and it would be a painful death. What a miserable tightrope they all walked. And as much as he hoped banding with the Shroud faction to the south would solve most of their problems, he was not so naïve to think it would. But it would certainly not hurt.

“I understand,” Gaius replied quietly and took his leave.

* * *

The examination was neither quick nor painless. As they measured her aether, they told her to dig into her memories and the Raen tried her hardest. But as she tried to reach for the memories, they evaded her, dancing just beyond her grasp. After a painstakingly long amount of time, Kaida suggested they bring in her old sword. Two interns were fetched to bring it and Kaida stared at the sword apprehensively as she unlidded its case.

Her hands found the sword’s hilt, her other going to the Dark Knight’s soul crystal. She waited for it to hit her. But nothing came. Just a void of thought and a yearning in her chest for answers. 

“We cannot force it, it seems,” Elmont said wryly. “Even with the sword. I imagine it only happens when you feel emotional duress. Which is… hard to inflict in a place like this.”

“I can try harder,” Kaida began but the elezen shook his head at her.

“No, enough. I would hear what Krile has to say from her observations,” Elmont replied, looking at the pensive Plainsfolk.

“Her aether clears at the spots indicated, that much I agree,” Krile said thoughtfully as she removed her goggles. “I would also agree that the nodes are, in fact, keeping her safe so removing them is counter-productive to what we want. It would seem they were put there to keep the corruption in check…”

Her voice trailed off and she rubbed her chin.

“It’s quite hard to tell much more than that having not witnessed any of these fits you are having. You’re certain it’s only when you are remembering something?” Krile asked.

“Yes.”

“I think… the most practical solution to this is to understand what about remembering triggers the episode. Master Elmont is right in that it’s likely duress. Your body is trying to defend itself by casting defensive magic but the nodes are not strong enough to hold it back,” Krile explained. “I would wager they only intended the corruption in your aether to be useful for piloting the Weapon. And the nodes were a way to make sure you survived in order to do so.”

“So… am I going to be unable to fight?” Kaida asked.

“No, no, I wouldn’t say that,” Krile shook her head. “It’s just a guess at this point, Kaida, but I think the best way to figure out is to work on discovering what precisely triggers it. I know—memory. But is it a specific one? Is it something you will grow so accustomed to that your body will stop stressing out so much? I… think that might be. You can already talk about the Necrotic Weapon without an episode happening.”

Krile had a good point. The Raen’s eyes lowered for a moment. But beating these fits by uncovering all the memories was… a terrifying aspect. It hurt. And what if it happened when they needed her? What if it happened during the fight with Ifrit…?

“You look worried. I wouldn’t be, if I were you,” Krile said, offering a small smile. “And if it’s any consolation, I can accompany you to your fight against Ifrit. As a precaution, of course.”

“I would appreciate that,” Kaida said, looking her arm over with a sigh.

“Until then, continue your training,” Elmont concluded firmly. “And if something should arise, notify one of us immediately.”

It was not the ending she had hoped for but Kaida was enveloped in such a chaotic storm of feelings that she realized she had no idea _what_ she wanted. She made her way back to her quarters before reminding herself that Tataru wanted to meet later. The Warrior of Light sighed out another hefty exhale, rubbing her forehead scales. She was tired in an existential way but knew that skipping out again was out of the question. 

The meeting came at a few bells after noon and Kaida made her way to it with a quiet wish that she was going to the training grounds instead. Tataru, Krile, Gaius, Estinien (bandaged and hunched over in his chair) were already waiting for her in the designated meeting room. She sat down across from Gaius, feeling eyes crawl over her. Judgment. She hated it already. Nero sidled in just after, holding a mug of something that could have been spiced wine in one hand, plopping down ungracefully next to her. 

“Nero, so glad you could join us for once,” Tataru remarked. “I take it you found time out of your ever-busy schedule?”

“Yes,” Nero said with a smirk, sipping his unknown beverage with levity in his voice. “Fortunately, Wedge volunteered to put in extra hours so I could make it here. A dedicated and charming disciple, that one.”

Gaius snorted.

“Right, well, I’ve already spoken with Estinien and after some debate, I think it’s safe to say our plan to have Kaida lure out and fight Ifrit is still on. Though we will have to take extra precautions on leaving the Stilled Ice. N’anrih is working on securing a back route for us as we speak and I hope to have a report soon on that,” Tataru announced. “If possible, I want us to move forward in two weeks’ time. Is that agreeable to all?”

Kaida felt Gaius’s eyes flit to her and she stirred in her chair. She cleared her throat and spoke up, “I can try to be ready by then.”

“If we must delay a little longer, then that should be fine,” Tataru said reassuringly.

“Any more intel on Almeria?” Gaius asked.

“Well, as a matter of fact… yes,” Tataru said. “Estinien, would you like to share with everyone?”

Estinien grumbled, resting a hand on his chest. Though he wore a dark black shirt, Kaida could see his bandages poking from underneath his collar. “It would seem we’ve a name for our brethren to the south. The Brothers Under Boughs. A name stolen from Garlean missives we were able to intercept. It would seem these ‘Brothers’ have been quite adept at stealing lately from local Ul’dahn merchants. Not the common merchant, mind you. Richer ones, with their hand in the mining market.”

“Mining market?” Krile asked. “So they’re stealing metals. That could mean they’re working on equipping their forces.”

“We do not actually know what they stole,” Estinien corrected her. “Only that it’s causing a stir. There has been an increased Garlean presence in the South Shroud. Which will make it very difficult to move Kaida to Thanalan to fight Ifrit.”

“Two weeks still remain until then,” Gaius said dismissively. “Enough time for the Garleans to become preoccupied elsewhere. Do not forget they have bolstered forces here as well. Likely reassigned from Ala Mhigo.”

“Oh where _isn’t_ there a strong Garlean presence at this point?” Tataru huffed. “I’d ask where Zenos gets all these men from but… gah, we already know where, I suppose. Conscripts, each and every one.”

_Zenos. Oh right. That._

“One thing I remember…” Kaida said, feeling her voice wither as soon as all eyes fell on her. She looked to the table surface, where her hands sat. Her fingertips twitched. She breathed in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I do not remember fighting Zenos at Ghimlyt. One year ago, I mean. And it is not that I do not remember it as in the memory is foggy… more like I recall… no fight happening.”

“What?” Tataru asked, scrunching her nose in surprise. “Wasn’t the entire invasion because he got tired of waiting for you to go to him? We were so busy with the towers… we delayed so long and…”

“Curious,” Nero observed. “I seemed to recall hearing he had quite the obsession with you.”

“Right, he did… it was creepy,” Kaida said, brow slanting slightly in concern. “But I do not remember fighting him. I had Cid fly me up to the flagship. I was going to take my chocobo but the crossfire was too dangerous so he took me instead.”

“Cid… was with you?” Gaius asked carefully.

“I…” Kaida paused in thought. “He was…”

“Then you were the last person to see him,” Nero said, a seriousness about him that seemed uncharacteristic. “And you do not happen to recall if he fled…?”

“No… I would imagine he did, though. He was right by the ship,” Kaida said firmly, a foggy image soon forming in her mind. “I’m certain he was there with me. He said he would be my getaway vehicle when I handed Zenos’s ass to him.”

“That does sound like Cid all right,” Tataru rubbed her chin.

“When I got to Zenos, there was… something wrong. We went to fight and then there was a trap of sorts. Magitek, I think,” Kaida said. “Orange light. Bright. And then screaming.”

Her throat tightened, heart palpitations skyrocketing. She realized she had formed twin fists atop the table. Knuckles were pale white with exertion, gripping nothingness out of building fear. Kaida closed her eyes, trying to let go of it. But it was suffocating.

“A trap?” Tataru prompted.

“I can’t,” the Raen said sharply, shaking her head. “I can feel an episode coming on. S-sorry…”

“That’s quite all right, Kaida,” Krile said reassuringly. “Deep breaths.”

It ebbed and flowed, this strange fear in her chest. When it surged, it felt like a beast thrashing against the bars of a cage. Feral and snarling. When it retreated, it did so with a whimper. A tortured, yearning soul. She breathed as Krile instructed, the tremor in her fingers dying off eventually.

“Hm. Clever of Zenos,” Nero remarked. “Tilting the scales in his favor to ensure an easy victory.”

“But unlike him,” Gaius said firmly.

“Absolutely unlike him,” Nero agreed. “There is something else afoot clearly.”

“Hm, something does seem off about this,” Krile agreed. “Why invade at all if he was going to just trap you and… not even fight you? The entire point of the invasion was to provoke you into fighting him. There is something not right here.”

“Estinien, have any of your men _seen_ Zenos since Ghimlyt?” Gaius asked.

“I would have to re-check with my scouts,” Estinien said carefully.

“Do it,” Gaius said. “As soon as you are able to.”

“Well, hold on,” Tataru began. “So… Zenos was at the flagship but he wasn’t?”

“I think he was there,” Kaida said. “But I can’t recall for sure. I just know that… it was not him. The one who sprung the trap. It was someone else. I do not know how I know but… I simply do.”

“And you do not recall anything else about Garlond?” Nero pressed.

“No,” Kaida shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m… I’m sure he fled, though. He probably heard what happened over the linkshell. I-I probably told him to run and the crossfire outside…”

_Kami above, did they shoot him down as he tried to flee? He could have still survived, I guess, but it’s unlikely… The crossfire was thick. It had been so hard to get to the flagship…_

“W-who knows, Nero. He could still be alive,” Kaida continued quickly, noting the telltale signs of distress in Nero’s blue eyes.

“Mm,” Nero said, distractedly turning his gaze to the wall. 

“Well, let’s focus on a few things at a time. Figuring out if there have been any sightings of Zenos in the last year and figuring out how we plan to get Kaida to Thanalan without raising the alarum,” Tataru said. “And, of course, getting her into shape. Right, Commander?”

Gaius dismissively grunted something incoherent.

“Good, good. Well, if we all put in our best effort and the Twelve give us a bit of luck, I’m sure things will turn around,” Tataru said with a smile. Kaida wondered if she believed that. “I’ll get back in touch with Godbert and see if our friends in Ul’dah can lend us any support.”

The meeting was adjourned soon enough. As Nero pensively departed, Tataru sauntered off with promises of another update by the sundown. Krile trailed out soon after, realizing that Tataru had not eaten since yesterday afternoon and had the promise of an admonishment on her breath as she chased the Dunesfolk down. Estinien hobbled towards the door, offering Kaida a thoughtful look with his typical morose expression.

“It is good to see you come to your senses at last,” Estinien remarked and Kaida felt as though he had dunked a bucket of cold water over her head.

“W-What does that mean!?” Kaida sputtered.

“I was wondering when you would join us in earnest,” Estinien said simply. “And I am glad you finally did.”

He hesitated at the door, looking back at her for a moment. A small, half-smile was on his face, accompanied by a knowing gleam in his stormy eyes.

“Mayhaps next time the Hopebreaker crosses our path, _you_ can deal with him.”

“I never asked that you pose as me,” Kaida began.

“You were not particularly in a position to be making any decisions,” Estinien pointed out. “And believe me, it was not _my_ idea.”

“I trust you were at least convincing,” Kaida said.

“Convincing enough though the Hopebreaker may wonder how you managed to start jumping so high,” Estinien remarked with a tiny smirk. “Mayhaps for consistency, I should have the Commander start training your leg strength.”

“An interesting point,” Gaius said thoughtfully.

“I do not like this,” Kaida said hastily, pointing between the two of them. “I do not like you two being friends.”

“Tataru said the same thing,” Estinien retorted and slipped out of the room.

She felt Gaius’s gaze on her—piercing like knives and just as sharp. The Raen glanced at him, the quiet of the empty meeting room ridden with some form of tension that she could not quite put into words. Kaida folded her arms across her chest.

“Two weeks,” he said to her.

“I know.”

“We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

“Yes.”

“We resume training on the morrow.”

“Sounds good.”

After the events of the day, her room was a nice sanctuary. The first thing she noticed after arriving was Gaius’s mattress, still laying on the floor. She paused, knowing he would want that back later. Her eyes lingered on it for some time, a small smile drawing across her face. She mused over the fact that he had really stayed the night, heat burning the back of her nape from how that seemed scandalous in a way. 

_I really did tell him to post himself, didn’t I? And he listened. For better or worse._

Despite feeling flushed, she found herself savoring the warmth that burned in her chest. With that smile only widening, she moved to the bathroom, taking a glance at her hair. She pulled it out of the bun, her scalp thanking her for releasing the tension it had been holding up. The Raen ran her fingers through it, finding all sorts of knots and wincing each time. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror, musing over her mess of a mane and realizing it was time to let some things go. Her hand moved to the hair dye sitting atop the counter but hesitated.

_Later_ , she told herself and then went to go find a set of scissors.

* * *

Gaius Baelsar knew the next two weeks had to make up for the lost time and more and he arrived the next day to training with that solemn mentality in mind. He had brought much of his might to bear against her in the past few sparring matches—well, everything he could muster in a nonlethal way. Of course he could have always gone harder against her. But he did not want to have to explain her corpse to Tataru. Then maybe the doe-eyed lalafell would reconsider staying his execution. 

The next day came and the hour for the next round of training sessions was soon upon them. Gaius arrived early to ensure everything was ready and the grounds were clear for her practice session. He caught Kaida in his peripherals as he tested his practice blade, a strange feeling passing through him. His head swiveled in her direction, noting the shorter hair she sported. Ashen brown, cut short with a hefty twig of fringe draping across her nose. Small twin tails from the sides of her head, banded with white ties. The same hairstyle she had sported all those years ago. The same hairstyle that she wore in Praetorium.

It was like looking at a ghost. But she did not scare him. Certain memories did.

“I’m ready for my ass beating, Commander,” a quite cheery Kaida said proudly, her words completely shattering his train of thought. 

He blinked. And then he shook his head, as if such could rid himself of the flustered feeling in his chest. 

“Right,” was all he could say.

They squared off soon enough and though she still lacked the polish of her past self, he found her blows hit with surprising strength. She danced around some of his blows, summoning an orb of spikes near his face. He evaded, sweeping a leg to catch one of her calves. She dodged and he caught a glint of something around her nape.

_The dark knight gemstone._

His mouth twisted into an amused smirk. So she really was taking this seriously now. His body radiated with delight at that, moving faster and the Raen chased to catch up. Kaida’s sword came down towards his head and he countered, though her blow was hefty enough to make him backstep once. He smiled at that.

Fighting had always come natural to him. Heirsbane had become an extension of his own arm. Its feel was flawless in his palm and though this practice blade was a poor imitation, he quickly learned its feel too. Their swords clashed over and over. A beautiful, off-key set of clamors. And then she faltered slightly in her footing. A quick opportunity to teach her _not_ to do that. He overpowered her with a shove—blade to blade, and Kaida fell. 

“That’s one,” she commented and picked herself back up.

“Again,” he said to her, parts of himself buzzing in elation that she had lasted so long against his blade.

“Again,” she agreed.

The next few rounds were a mixed bag but in each of them, he saw improvement. She learned to correct herself quickly and learned even faster to block where she was exposed. Time passed and he knew it was near time to end the training but he found himself addicted to watching the way she fought. Her body moved as though it remembered a time before the trauma. And with each success, she grinned. 

The final round came and their swords clanked. She was tiring, he knew. She had been tiring this entire time but she was pushing herself through it. He caught her blade with his, the tip sliding to the hilt. Gaius twisted his wrist, the hilt snagging and ripping her sword away. His body sang with the drive to fight and he followed through thoughtlessly, driven by reflex. His left hand snapped out at her neck as the Raen gawked at her blade skidding across the snow-ridden floor.

Gaius followed her to the ground absent-mindedly. His practice sword embedded into the ground next to her head. His face bearing into hers. And his left hand closed around her thin throat.

Realization over what he had done hit him like ice water. Every inch of him went rigid, cold with fear and hot with the rush from sparring. His hand was a vice around her neck, squeezing just enough to cause a slight strain on her breathing. He found that grip unmoving, even to himself, his pale eyes staring down at her in mirrored shock as she stared up at him. Both of her hands were atop of his, fingers nestled over his. The tips tried to poke between his palm and her scaled neck. There was surprise in her eyes but it was not solitary, intermingled with another emotion. A twinkle in her emerald irises— not hate, not fear. _Awe._

Kaida was warm to the touch, her palms like twin fires against his hand. It was very noticeable that she was not struggling against him. Her hands merely sat on his, warming them. No attempt to flee. No attempt to save herself. And a part of him recognized this. That gleam in her eyes. That flushed look in her cheeks. The way her hands cupped over his. Familiarity rang about it and Gaius felt a piercing fear in his chest.

He let go of her, swallowing down a feeling surging in his veins that he did not want to admit. When he rose to his feet, it was in an ungraceful scramble, stopping only to help her up. No words could even come to mind to account for what he had done. Paralyzing fear kept him silent and so he stared her down unblinkingly.

“Um… g-good moves, Commander,” Kaida fumbled out as she dusted some bits of snow off of her pants. One of her hands moved to her throat for a moment, covering where he had grabbed her for a fleeting second.

“Are you all right?” Gaius said when he finally figured out how to speak again.

“Yes,” Kaida replied quickly, clearing her throat. “I feel great.”

“G-great?” Gaius asked in disbelief.

“Err… I-I… _would_ feel great, I mean. If we ate,” Kaida said. “It’s almost lunch.”

“R-right,” Gaius said uncertainly. “Go on. I will put up the swords.”

“Alright,” Kaida replied and he noted the crimson hueing her cheeks.

She nodded and he went to fetch her blade. It was hard to look at her for a moment, hard to feel anything but the skin on his hand, where they had touched. It tingled, warm and light. And he tried to ignore it, reaching down and gripping the hilt of her discarded sword to stifle out the sensation. He shelved both blades quietly, a quiver in his breath as the excitement drifted from his limbs. 

Jaw clenched, he looked back at her retreating form. A small limp in her left leg, he noted immediately. Maybe they had practiced too hard that day, he thought to himself, using that as a distraction as he uneasily combed through his hair with a hand. An array of thoughts crossed his mind at light speed—overwhelming and full of things he did not want to mull over, even in the privacy of his own mind. He resolved himself to go have lunch—food was good for the soul and had a tendency to straighten people out. And a mug of ale. A large one.


	15. Dark Passenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaida, Nero, Krile, and Gaius depart to lure out and slay Ifrit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added spicy tags: Choking, Breathplay, and Loss of Virginity. And non-spicy: Severa and Valdeaulin.
> 
> No context will be given for these tags (because spoilers lol) and I'll let you guys know when the fic officially starts becoming nsfw.
> 
> If last arc was about Kaida coming to terms with what happened then this arc is about Gaius dealing with his own Stuff(tm). And I think that will be made apparent at the end of this chapter. This will feature my own take on some of his backstory, which I understand is tempting fate and SE to actually come out with canon info that will obliterate how "canon" this fic is. Which is fine. This is an AU after all and I ain't about to wait forever for them to feed us lore lol.
> 
> Friendly reminder that I do have a tumblr if you're on tumblr! I've been posting Kaida lore on it as well as some self-indulgent pics of her and Gaius. https://little-dragon-heart.tumblr.com/

Two weeks was not enough time. But it was the time they had. 

The days passed in a blur. Swords clanged in that lonely iced cavern, the sound of metal-on-metal echoing all around them. Parry, swing, dodge, thrust. A dance they shared each day. And after Gaius would dismiss her, she would find her way past the gates of the Stilled Ice into the feral, winding roads within Snowcloak. And she would run, feet scraping against the cold ground. The distant sound of wind called beyond the thick pale azure ice. And the touch of cold whipped over her face as she exercised. 

After running came lunch. And after lunch came communion. It felt weird to sit in her room alone with the Dark Knight’s crystal alone in her hand as she mulled over the memories it held. Fleeting images but familiar sensations. It reminded her of how to swing Deathbringer just a bit better. It told her how to dig into those feelings a bit more. But she felt herself avoid her memories. There was the potential to pull powerful emotion from them but she shied away from it. Having control was better than having power. Especially when that power threatened to cripple and rend one incapacitated.

Daily check-ins with Krile saw no change in her aether. It was stable, somehow, in its instability. And Kaida counted that as a blessing. As much as she could in her situation. No episodes came but with that, a stifling halt to remembering anything came with it. Frustrating but her recuperating body welcomed the change. It gave her some type of peace, even if she knew it would not last forever.

Tataru pushed back the encounter with Ifrit by a half-week when it became clear that the Hopebreaker had planted his men in Mor Dhona. Revenant’s Toll was said to be under martial law as the Garleans combed it for signs of ‘the Asset’. Guilt tugged at her after learning that, knowing that it was her fault the people of Revenant’s Toll were suffering. But there was nothing left to do but carry on with the plan.

Estinien arrived one day with a limp still plaguing him but a route formed. The Empire had subjugated the Ishgardian royal houses but Estinien had managed to contact Edmont de Fortemps. The displaced count now operated as a begrudging liaison between the Ishgardians and the Imperials, his new home in the Observatorium. As Kaida understood it, Count de Fortemps was still under harsh Imperial scrutiny but he had rebelled in his own quiet ways. Including finding a path through the Imperial forces for them to carefully traverse.

Given that the path from the North Shroud to the highlands housed a Garlean checkpoint, the old road through Griffin’s Crossing was to be their route, its infamous big bridge in a derelict state. Gaius opposed it at once, claiming the bridge was too open, leaving any who crossed at it vulnerable to air attacks. But its location was far from the road to Mor Dhona, which was understandably rife with Imperial soldiers and so even the grim-faced commander relented they had no other choice. The bridge at Griffin’s Crossing would take them to the lowlands to the east, to the place they had called the Fields of Glory once. A small Garlean outpost would have to be avoided on the fields but the bleak canyons would provide cover enough. And then they would begin the process of slipping their way along the west border of the Shroud, careful to avoid delving into the woods and alerting the Elementals. Eastern Thanalan was their goal and if they took the road from Camp Tranquil there, it would feed them directly where they needed to go.

Kaida mused over the plans after Estinien went over them. Taking one of Nero’s speeders would raise eyebrows if they were spotted but trekking the entire way on foot was nearly out of the question. It would simply take too long and the Garleans had the foresight to knock down all of the aetherytes in order to better police travel so teleporting was out of the question. The solution they came up with was to take the speeders until it became clear that they could not do so without raising suspicion—something Gaius suggested would occur when they reached the Shroud.

It was not a plan she felt satisfied by but she accepted it and put her focus into her training. Two days before their departure came and Kaida measured her performance against Gaius with a harsher eye than before. Somehow that hampered her ability to react timely and the Raen found herself backed to the icy wall of the training grounds. He came close to her, but not too close. Her eyes danced towards his free hand for a moment before drawing up to his face. He had choked her that one time—most of two weeks ago by now and she had never brought it up. It had been reflexes, she thought. Just a soldier remembering what he had been taught.

But she still thought about it. Perhaps more often than she should.

“Distracted,” he tutted at her, the tip of his blade beneath her chin, tilting her head up at him. “Again.”

“I’m not ready,” Kaida began.

“You are,” Gaius said dismissively, lowering his blade and retreating back to the middle of their sparring area.

“I still can’t even beat you,” Kaida replied and the Garlean glanced at her over his shoulder.

“You were never going to,” Gaius said carefully.

_Confident, isn’t he? I would still like to see how he looks with a sword at his neck instead of mine._

“But in time, you might,” Gaius added lightly. “Come. We will go again.”

“If you say so,” Kaida sighed.

That night she resolved to dye her hair. The shade came out a little more blue-green than she had intended. But when she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw the Warrior of Light who had felled Nidhogg and Shinryu both. The one who had saved Norvrandt. And she thought of Ardbert then, musing over how fate had given her a second chance to make up for her shortcomings. And they never had done so for him.

And then the day of departure came, faster than she could have anticipated. Tataru had initially wanted to give them a small squadron but after further review, Gaius vetoed the idea. A small handful would be easier to transport, he reasoned, and so their team was carefully assembled in the hanger with their necessities packed. Nero would pilot the speeder. Gaius would serve as Kaida’s bodyguard. And then lastly, Krile would come along to help Kaida fight Ifrit. Four people, a meager force to balance such hopes upon. But that was simply how it had to be, given their circumstances. Tataru would need all the help she could get keeping things running smoothly in their absence. And Estinien was still recovering.

“Nero, I _still_ don’t understand why you insist on going,” Tataru huffed. “We really need you here. What if something happens to you?”

Nero glanced down at her, that devilish smile on his face. “Oh fear not, Madame Antecedent. I am certain Wedge will take good care of you. Good enough, that is.”

Kaida caught a glimpse of Wedge just behind Tataru, his face brimming scarlet.

“What’s that look for, Lady Tataru? You and I both know we can ill afford to spare many of our number. So why not send our finest?” Nero asked as he put his sunglasses on. “Besides, Mjolnir has sat on the shelf for too long. And it’s not like you have given me much reason lately to use it.”

“Oh, you impudent…” Tataru huffed. “Very well. Go bash in some Imperial heads if you’d like. But I still need you to help prep the airships. They’re almost repaired and we could really use them.”

“Yes, yes,” Nero waved his hand. “I’m sure Krile will keep all three of us in line.”

“Three?” Kaida asked.

“Three,” Nero repeated.

“Now wait a second…!” the Raen started.

“I certainly did _not_ sign up to babysit the lot of you,” Krile remarked. “It’ll be nice to get out of Coerthas, though. Haven’t felt the sun’s warmth in ages.”

“I have sent N’anrih ahead to scout for any traps,” Estinien announced as he limped over to see them off. “Would that I could accompany you.”

“One of us must remain behind to rescue the other,” Gaius remarked to Estinien, who smiled bitterly at him.

“If you should get into trouble, at least have the courtesy to wait until I am healed,” Estinien retorted.

“I cannot guarantee that,” Gaius replied. “So I encourage you to heal _faster_.”

“Not everything goes as you command, Black Wolf,” Estinien said with a wry smirk. “As astonishing as that may sound to you.”

“Well see to it that _this_ does,” Gaius retorted.

They began to climb into the speeder of Nero’s choice, a sleek silver vehicle that would blend well with Coerthas’s pale snow. Nero took the driver’s seat and Krile crawled into the back. Gaius took the seat next to Nero and Kaida looked at the last remaining seat for a long moment before feeling something grab her upper leg. She glanced down to see Tataru hugging her, bright eyes showing the faintest sign of tears.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” the Antecedent whispered to Kaida, a quiver in her voice.

“I promise,” Kaida said.

“No matter what?” Tataru asked.

“No matter what. Do you really think the commander will let me snooze another year away in captivity?”

“Ha! No but… I still wanted to hear you say it. Just for peace of mind,” Tataru stepped back, holding back her tears and mustering up a smile. “Take care. All four of you.”

The hanger door opened and Kaida felt her stomach churn. No warning was given before Nero pressed the speeder forward into the early light of Coerthas. She clung to Deathbringer, which rode between her knees. Its cyan glow was snuffed out by a blanket she had wrapped around it.

Dawn’s dim light would shelter them as they carried on into the early morning—or so the theory went. When the cold of the outdoors hit her face, she snuggled into the furred rim of her coat. The hum of the speeder was gentle but loud enough to be heard. She gripped the side of the speeder as she looked around, taking in the sights. The speeder zipped between two mountains, coursing over a frozen river and leaving Snowcloak behind. Strange how everything was so different yet the snow-capped mountains around them seemed the same.

 _This is the first time I’ve left the Stilled Ice since I awoke,_ realized the Raen numbly. _What does Eorzea even look like these days?_

“So. The other day. The mattress—” Nero began and Kaida clamped her mouth shut in horror, lips pursed.

“ _Nero_ ,” a single word from Gaius’s lips. A single word that spoke many things. All of them violent. 

Nero settled into his chair with a smirk, lazily leaving one hand on the controls.

The speeder carried on, veering south. There were few words shared between them. Krile wrapped herself in a blanket and kept a steady look out for signs of trouble. Nero occasionally chatted at Gaius, who had a few brisk replies but eventually seemed to warm more to the idea of talking. But Kaida watched him closely, his pale eyes ever scanning the horizon and Heirsbane close to his right hand. 

Their route took them through Daniffen Pass, an underground tunnel that cut through the mountain range. After crossing through, they passed into the light once more, the Coerthan forests marred by jutting Allagan remnants that stuck out from the earth with an eerie glow still about them. A coil rested not far from where they were, Kaida knew. And with it, ancient atrocities better left underground where they could disturb no one. 

The Observatorium came into sight, its bleak walls even bleaker with the look of the Empire about them. The white flag of Garlemald hung from its ebony, metal walls. Red searchlights lit up the underbellies of the grey clouds overhead. Nero brought the speeder to a halt and the four quietly looked at the Observatorium for a few moments.

Knowing Garlemald had taken everything over and seeing it were two different things. Kaida felt her throat tighten at the sight of the Empire’s flags. Her hands clenched into each other, palms touching. It was surreal. A bad dream. But it was not. Because the scars on her body were real. Those memories were real. The nodes inside of her were real.

“The Observatorium is where many Ishgardians were moved to after their city fell. Falcon’s Nest is a similar sight to this. Filled with refugees and unwilling citizens of the Empire—those who could not be conscripted,” Krile said quietly. “Count de Fortemps has been working there to try to get a better life for his people. Well. The ones that are left, I suppose.”

_The ones that are left._

Nero directed their speeder to cut a wide berth around the Observatorium, maneuvering between thinly-spaced trees. Kaida watched the midnight walls lurk in the distance, the sight of them reminding her of spying a large shark in the Ruby Sea. A chill trickled over her and it was not from the cold. Touch on her arm alerted her and she saw Krile pat her gently. A weak smile fleetingly lived on the Raen’s face… and then dissipated. It was freezing out here. Freezing and cruel.

Imperial ships loitered on the horizon, towards where Kaida knew Castrum Nocte lay in the distance, beyond the mountain range. The sight of them made her wince, teeth clenched and heart beating fervently. She tore her gaze away, pained emotionally and focused her hands on the grooves of Deathbringer’s hilt under the blanket. 

Griffin’s Crossing came into sight soon enough. They crossed through the abandoned checkpoint and Kaida took notice of the way its structure was partially crumbled. Some of the stones comprising the structure were blackened with dragon fire, and heaps of snow lay scattered about the entrance. Nero carelessly pressed the speeder along, zipping onto the stone bridge.

“The dragons. What ever happened to them when the Garleans came?” Kaida asked.

“They have retreated to the Churning Mists,” Krile informed her. “The Forelands sit in a stalemate between their forces. Would that the remnants of Nidhogg’s brood would join Hraesvelgr’s. They are soured still by the death of their patriarch.”

“If they did, would the Garleans be bested?” Kaida asked.

“The stalemate would break for certain,” Krile said.

“We could always try to talk to Hraesvelgr,” Kaida began.

“Assuming he would _want_ to talk,” Krile remarked. “He has not been particularly chatty since your alleged demise. But maybe we could pay him a visit after we’re done with Ifrit.”

“I would like that,” Kaida said quietly, the wind whipping through her hair as they continued along the bridge.

Gaius was on full alert until they reached the end. When he settled back into his chair, it was with a gruff grunt and Nero casting an inquiring glance at him. There was a distinct scowl on the Black Wolf’s features.

“Do you need to stretch your legs?” the devious blond asked.

“No,” Gaius grumbled. “I simply do not like this. It has been too easy.”

“I know that look,” Nero said with a gleaming smirk. “You are upset at the lack of security. You know you would have done it better, had you been given charge of this land.”

Gaius shifted, leaning his chin onto his curled fist as he brooded at the wintery scenery around them.

“Yes,” said the ex-legatus after a moment of quiet and Nero snorted.

“Then I suppose we should be thankful that you are on our side,” Krile remarked.

They dipped into the eastern lowlands and Gaius called for a break soon after. Their speeder’s radar chimed that there were unknown vehicles ahead and Nero quickly ascertained that they were airships. The ice-ridden canyons were rife with places to tuck away for a small while so they did, finding shallow cave amid the winding passageways and resting within it. Nero brought out a small magitek device that could heat up soup and they each ate a meager portion to sustain themselves. Gaius rested near the edge of the cave, looking across the canyon. Expressionless but full of thought.

“Will we reach the Shroud by dusk?” Krile asked him.

“‘Tis likely,” Gaius replied. “And then we will break for a few hours and rest there.”

“I never did enjoying camping,” Nero remarked.

“Did you not ask to accompany us?” Gaius asked him.

“I did. But I did not say I was going to enjoy it,” Nero said with a ‘tsk’ as he leaned against the speeder. “Have we found a good enough route across the western edge of the Shroud? Or will we really have to tuck our speeder away and continue on-foot?”

“I cannot think of one yet…” Gaius sighed. “We lose much time that way.”

“If we cut wide around Fallgourd and go close to the coil there, we may be able to evade the Garleans,” Kaida pointed out. “It’s still entering the Shroud but… shallowly. Would the Elementals bother us then?”

“I know not,” Gaius mused grimly. “I fear more that we venture too close to the checkpoint or worse, too close to a patrol. The Imperials have established routes around the Shroud for better travel so they do not have to deal with what lurks within. Even they do not go into the forest.”

“I do not like the idea of venturing into the tree line,” Nero said disdainfully. “But if we stumble into a patrol, we can certainly abandon all thoughts of completing the mission. They will have the Hopebreaker out here in hours and we will be hard-pressed even to return back to the Stilled Ice.”

“Elementals or Imperials… not a choice to make lightly,” Krile said. “But honestly? If I had to choose, I would pick the Elementals. We can still take the speeder through the woods and it’ll be faster than creeping along the border on-foot.”

“I’m with Krile,” Kaida nodded.

“Perhaps your old training could be of some use,” Nero remarked to Kaida. “Did you not used to… wave about your cane and do something akin to appeasing spirits?”

Indignant, the Raen folded her arms. “It… it was a bit more than that, Nero.”

“It all looks the same to me,” Nero said with a shrug. “But could you perhaps convince them to not kill us while we intrude upon their now very haunted abode?”

“I’m… unsure…” Kaida fumbled. “A-and besides, I wasn’t… I wasn’t very good at it…”

A small lie. She had been perfectly fine at it. When she had the mental capacity to focus. And the Raen could already tell she was going to be struggling to do that.

“Besides, I’m certain they only listen to Padjal. And although I have horns, I doubt they’d mistake those for those of a Padjal,” Kaida concluded.

“Well, it was a thought,” Nero shrugged again. “I suppose the method of running and shooting will also suffice should things get dire enough.”

They carried on through the quiet lowlands. Nary a soul in sight. The silence here was unnerving. These lands had once been host to matches between the grand companies. She remembered them well enough. But now they were noiseless, only the stone of the canyons remembering how they had once been populated. It was a strange feeling, like passing through a place both known and not. 

A Garlean outpost sat in the distance, as they had told her it would. And they were careful to avoid it, taking a long route through more winding canyons that looked the same. Kaida mused over how Nero was able to even guide them to their destination. Everything was identical, as far as she could tell.

By the time the sun began to set, the lowlands were beginning to fade away. A distant forest sat before them, daunting and shadowed. Gaius had Nero pull off into a large ditch, the riverbed dry and the overhangs large enough to provide shelter. A small lantern was used as lighting while their unimpressive camp was set up. Nero opted to sleep in the speeder, his legs hanging off the side of it as he made his makeshift bed. Gaius put down three bedrolls on the dirt and Kaida selected the one in the middle. 

“I don’t like this,” Krile admitted as she tinkered with Nero’s food heating device. “Even down here, I still feel exposed.”

“We are not safe,” Gaius agreed. “But that is the reality of anywhere outside of our headquarters.”

“Are we going to have people keep watch?” Kaida asked.

“Yes,” Gaius said. “I will take the first shift.”

Food was eaten, sparse words shared between the four of them. Gaius kept his word and told them to get some rest. They would be leaving before sunrise to get some hours in under the cover of night. 

“If you start to doze off, wake me up,” Kaida said to him.

“I shall,” he replied.

Sleeping under the stars was not something she had done in ages. As she lay in her bedroll next to Krile, she looked up at the heavens. The stars shone brightly out at the edge of the lowlands, away from civilization and its blinding lights. They were a familiar sight to her. Beautiful and calm. Unchanged in a world that felt so different to her. She rolled onto her side, clutching the covered Deathbringer close to her chest. 

Gaius lingered just a few yalms away, his silhouette outlined by the faint light of their lantern. She wrapped her arms a little tighter around her sword’s hilt. And she breathed deep the night air, watching Gaius until her vision blurred with tiredness. The pull of sleep was gentle and she fell back into it willingly while overhead the stars danced and a chilly breeze blew.

* * *

Late nights were dangerous, alluring weary minds with nostalgia and bittersweet memories. That night was no different but Gaius staved off such distractions with grim resolve. Heirsbane sat in his lap, hand languidly on its hilt. He cast one glance back at the sleeping trio before focusing his gaze on the area around them. The hills made it easy for enemies to slip in and out of view. Keeping alert was key to their survival. But just as the hills were a boon for their enemy, they were also a curse. Being nestled down into a ditch would make it difficult for them to be spotted from afar. 

An hour ticked by. And then another. He glanced back at Kaida once more and how she slept with her sword close at hand. She stirred softly but kept sleeping on. Good. She would need her rest for the trial to come. 

It crossed his mind to wake someone so he could get rest but there was a thrill about the night air that fed him, keeping him awake. He perched slightly above where they slept, peering out at the lowlands. Stillness reigned, despite the wind tickling over the stout blades of grass. There was no thing as peace outside of the Stilled Ice and he knew it. Yet for a moment, he drank it in.

The nip of the Coerthan air reminded him of Garlemald. And the night won him over at last. He indulged himself momentarily in reminiscing. A foolish thing to do but he could not help it. The years had not been kind and sad souls were wont to reflect on such a somber-feeling night. Gaius Baelsar was no different. A man who had lived past when it had been his time to die. And he reminded himself of such as he kept watch. 

But perhaps things had played out in his life as they should have. The Rebellion would have long died without his aid. They needed him and he knew that. That had been made obvious the day Eorzea fell. And Solus had been kind enough to make him into a weapon. An attack dog. It was for the best they used him. That was what weapons were for-- to be used. He understood this well. Solus had made that clear to him.

* * *

_Glory to the Empire._

_In the foreground of white banners and their simplistic sigil sat the seat of emperors, flanked by two guards of the highest skill and trust. The throne room saw many visitors during times of war—which was always in the solemn empire of Garlemald. But that day saw the throne room uncannily devoid of any presence other than a cluster gathered at the throne. Gaius tol Baelsar knelt just slightly behind the legatus, a silver-haired soldier of many years and a tired face. Augustus van Numitor. A warrior whose prime had long passed him and his victories quickly waning from the populace’s memory. A sad state for a man of his age, a man who ought to have retired years ago. And yet he suffered to continue and Gaius suffered to follow him._

_The XIth legion was successful nonetheless, though their casualties would have begged to refute such a statement. A battle less than a fortnight ago had seen a fifth of their forces depleted and that had been after Gaius had inserted himself to do damage control for Augustus’s poor decisions. They had won the night but it hardly felt like a victory worthy of the Empire. When the Emperor had called the legatus back to the capital, Gaius had followed out of duty. He carried some of the blame by default. And with the harsh scent of fire, ceruleum, and death still lingering in his mind, he thought of all the soldiers he had not been able to pull from that hellscape._

_There was but one reason they had been called back and he grimly knew it. The legatus and tribunus laticlavius both were to be subjected to scrutiny and by the Emperor himself. The other tribuni had been among the dead, spared judgment in life for a cold grave in a faraway land. Harsh yellow eyes fell upon both men and Gaius submitted to them, letting them cast their judgment and knowing there was naught he could do to save himself. Solus was an astute man but a single gander at him and Gaius knew he was not a kind man. But it was not kind men that led the world. It was not kind men that the world needed._

_Glory to the Empire.  
  
“Legatus,” Solus spoke at last in a tone that betrayed nothing but the sense that he was bored. “Know you why I have called you here?”_

_“For reprimand,” Augustus said in his deep, gravelly tone._

_“Reprimand?” Solus asked, mouth twisting into an amused smile. “How droll. I do enough reprimanding with my heirs. And I should think a man of your age above the punishments of children.”_

_Those indiscriminate yellow eyes passed from the legatus to his second-in-command._

_"Tribunus Laticlavius,” the emperor said and Gaius felt the hair on his nape prickle. “How often I see your name in reports from the battlefield. The way the soldiers talk, they attribute their successes to you.”_

_There were no words to offer the emperor. Gaius waited because that was all he could do. Solus’s eyes turned back to Augustus, his anger betrayed by the slight furrow of his angled brows._

_“The Frumentarium have brought a most curious report to me in days past,” Solus said. “Whispers of treason within the house of Numitor and beyond. Blades sharpened for the dead of night—both proverbial and literal, from the reports I received. An awful cliché but I suppose you never were a clever actor, Augustus.”_

_Augustus’s teeth gnashed as he looked up at the Emperor._

_“Treason? My house has remained loyal to the throne since your ascension, Your Majesty!” Augustus protested. “Such talk is slander and I would know who began such vile rumors.”_

_"Tis no fine line between rumor and truth, Augustus, and the Frumentarium know the difference as well as the veins on the back of their hands,” Solus replied, giving his fingers a comedic wiggle for emphasis. But his expression remained both smug and cruel. “I am curious. How would you have gone about it? Would it have been a knife to my throat? A bullet in the dead of night? Or perhaps poison in a gift offering of wine?”_

_“Slander!” Augustus repeated, enraged. His hands were white-knuckled fists but Gaius saw the leftmost one begin to stray. It was a subtle movement, towards the belt. A short-barreled gun was strapped to his waist. Gaius’s blood ran cold at the insinuation._

_Glory to the Empire._

_“Oh spare me your pitiful performance, I care not for it,” Solus retorted disdainfully. “I am only disappointed you were sloppy enough to get caught.”_

_"Is that so?” Augustus asked with a growl. “I see no shackles yet upon me!”_

_His hand went for the gun and Gaius’s went for his gunblade. A single swing, powerful with his entire bodyweight thrown behind it. So focused was Augustus on Emperor Solus that he did not see his subordinate’s betrayal. The gunblade’s tip raked across the back and side of the legatus’s neck, an unlivable blow that severed flesh to the bone. A spray of blood fell upon the tile, dirtying the steps to the throne and falling just shy of Solus’s foot. Faster than the Emperor’s elite guard could react, their mouths agape as Augustus hit the floor. The tip of his blade followed Augustus to the ground but he knew the blow was mortal. Crimson dripped down Gaius’s face, his eyes staring down uncaringly at the legatus while his heart raced. Droplets splashed onto the tile, marring its beauty._

_Augustus’s life ebbed away in a confused gargle and the tribunus laticlavius’s eyes trailed up to meet Solus’s. A wry, knowing smile stretched the Emperor’s face wide with pure delight. He did not rise from his throne and nor did he seem to care that the traitor’s blood was leaking all over his floor. His golden eyes were fixated upon Gaius, seeming oblivious to even his guards shifting about with uncertainty as to what they had just witnessed._

_"Well done,” Solus praised softly, a single statement that washed over Gaius like a tidal wave. “Yes. A very stunning performance…”_

_A tiny hesitation and Solus’s grin widened._

_“… **Legatus**.”_

_Glory to the Empire and all of her people. Glory to the Emperor, who would lead them to a fruitful future of peace and unity. Glory to Garlemald._

* * *

Footsteps in the distance sounded out in the dark, breaking his recollection. He could tell much about them from the noise they made. Each step was made hastily, unprofessionally. Metal plates scraping against each other. A Garlean uniform, no doubt. Heirsbane was readied at once, its lengthy blade sitting atop the Black Wolf’s forearm as he aimed. Twin shadows in the night. Their silhouettes unmistakable. Garlean units—scouts. No doubt surveying the area for anything suspicious. A meager patrol. The Imperials must truly have not been suspecting rebel activity this close to the Shroud.

Such a pity for the two unfortunate scouts.

Both scouts were running—a poor choice. They gave away their intentions at once. Evidently they had managed to spy the rebels and were retreating because they knew their fate if they were seen. And Gaius knew that they would only come back with squadrons to clamp them all in irons at worst or kill them mercilessly at best. 

He knew what he had to do.

Two shots were all he would need to fell the both of them. And as they screamed into the night, the Black Wolf stalked after them. Quiet steps, the glint of Heirsbane in the moonlight the only thing they saw as he approached. One was on the verge of consciousness, the bullet having pierced a slit in his armor. One was trying to grab at his radio.

“T-The Black Wolf!” a horrified scout yelped. And then, more emboldened, his voice rang out. “Y-you traitor!”

Heirsbane found the center of the Imperial’s hand, crushing through the device and stabbing into the man’s hand. The scout screamed, louder this time. A slash silenced the wails, cutting just below the chin of the scout’s helmet. And then Gaius did it to the other. Measured movements from a hand that had done such too many times. Familiar numb feelings crawled over him. And when the fresh corpses had stopped their twitching, he grabbed them both and discarded them under a nook where a withered tree had fallen. He paused for a moment to mourn them in his own quiet way. They were sons of Garlemald, as he had once been ages ago. Soldiers following orders and naught more. But this was war and Gaius knew the price of it all too well. Blood and blood and more blood.

When he approached their camp, all were awake. Kaida had climbed out of the ditch, Deathbringer unwrapped and in hand. Krile peered out from behind her and a glance down into the ditch saw Nero already throwing things into the speeder for a getaway.

“Gaius!? What’s going on?” Kaida said hurriedly and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. His heart raced from adrenaline. But he betrayed not a sign of it.

“Go back to sleep,” was all Gaius said to them.

“After that?” Nero retorted. “Who the hells were you firing at? Were we seen?”

“We were. But it is fine now,” Gaius replied. “They are gone.”

He said ‘gone’ but he trusted they understood his meaning.

“There’s… blood on your face,” Kaida began and he paused, reaching up to touch where a few flecks had landed on his cheek.

“So there is,” he agreed and rubbed it away carelessly. Her eyes followed him and he felt their judgment on the back of his head. He said nothing more, however, taking a cloth from his belongings and wiping Heirsbane off with it. 

“I’ll take the next watch,” Kaida announced and he smirked at her. Did she really think he could sleep now? 

“If that is your wish,” he replied and watched the Raen take his perch.

The night passed and when it was time to depart, they did so in silence. Gaius was distinctly under the impression none of them had slept well. Unfortunate but something he could not help. They departed while darkness still reigned. And as the sun begin to slip over the horizon, he saw a gathering of black-winged vultures in the distance. They cawed joy at a fresh meal. And then he focused his gaze ahead.


End file.
